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 Zimbabwe and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in 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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 rhodes 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 Standells to the funk 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 The Skatalites. All the underground hits.
All OOIOO tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy Collins 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 güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker,
Prince Buster,
Buzzcocks,
Cecil Taylor,
The Skatalites,
Nik Kershaw,
ABC,
Dave Gahan,
Sam Rivers,
Deadbeat,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Alarm Clocks,
Organ,
Amon Düül II,
Ralphi Rosario,
Joe Finger,
Lou Reed,
Intrusion,
The J.B.'s,
Dawn Penn,
Stetsasonic,
Laurel Aitken,
Charles Mingus,
Hoover,
Mary Jane Girls,
The New Christs,
Mo-Dettes,
Blancmange,
Arab on Radar,
The Move,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Sound,
The Stooges,
Mr. Review,
Los Fastidios,
Eli Mardock,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
kango's stein massive,
Henry Cow,
Thompson Twins,
Ronan,
Jacques Brel,
Bluetip,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Arthur Verocai,
Barrington Levy,
Crooked Eye,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
This Heat,
Malaria!,
Kas Product,
The Offenders,
Arcadia,
The Real Kids,
Alphaville,
Rapeman,
Dead Boys,
Infiniti,
Boz Scaggs,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Robert Hood,
Cybotron,
The Techniques,
Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya.
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.