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 Mozambique and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Gap Band to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Roxette. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlback tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Stooges record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gerry Rafferty record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pulsallama,
The Tremeloes,
Yazoo,
the Bar-Kays,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Agent Orange,
The Smiths,
the Fania All-Stars,
Eve St. Jones,
The Dirtbombs,
Charles Mingus,
The Invisible,
The Neon Judgement,
Lalann,
Bad Manners,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Buckinghams,
Roger Hodgson,
X-102,
Tubeway Army,
Sugar Minott,
Mandrill,
Heaven 17,
Deepchord,
The Grass Roots,
Tim Buckley,
Blancmange,
The Busters,
Lou Christie,
Tommy Roe,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Durutti Column,
The Fire Engines,
Quadrant,
Section 25,
The Doors,
Radio Birdman,
Ornette Coleman,
Glenn Branca,
Black Moon,
Peter & Gordon,
F. McDonald,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Blues Magoos,
Lower 48,
Magma,
Fat Boys,
Icehouse,
Altered Images,
Gang Green,
Soul II Soul,
Roxette,
Urselle,
These Immortal Souls,
The Wake,
The Human League,
Kerri Chandler,
Avey Tare,
John Foxx,
Kas Product,
The Selecter,
David McCallum,
Scrapy,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can.
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.