Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from St Lucia and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Gladiators to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every MDC record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Neon Judgement record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Clear Light,
Stockholm Monsters,
Eden Ahbez,
Lalo Schifrin,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Detroit Cobras,
Marmalade,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Knickerbockers,
The Beau Brummels,
Symarip,
Jeff Lynne,
Harmonia,
Lindisfarne,
Althea and Donna,
B.T. Express,
Thompson Twins,
Nick Fraelich,
The Doors,
Mission of Burma,
Interpol,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
David McCallum,
Brothers Johnson,
The Monochrome Set,
the Swans,
cv313,
U.S. Maple,
Outsiders,
Black Sheep,
Frankie Knuckles,
Accadde A,
Absolute Body Control,
Ralphi Rosario,
Minor Threat,
Flash Fearless,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Cheater Slicks,
Marvin Gaye,
Qualms,
Underground Resistance,
Hashim,
Patti Smith,
The Music Machine,
Chrome,
Technova,
Talk Talk,
The Red Krayola,
Procol Harum,
ABBA,
UT,
Nas,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Cymande,
Oneida,
Desert Stars,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.