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 San Marino and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Monolake 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 A Certain Ratio. All the underground hits.
All Easy Going tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Buckinghams record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cheater Slicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Jacob Miller,
Lalann,
The Moody Blues,
Buzzcocks,
Minny Pops,
Malaria!,
The Searchers,
Crooked Eye,
Brass Construction,
Alice Coltrane,
Eric B and Rakim,
Dave Gahan,
The Slackers,
Rakim,
Sam Rivers,
These Immortal Souls,
Yellowson,
Von Mondo,
Cameo,
Grauzone,
UT,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sparks,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Terrestrial Tones,
Maleditus Sound,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Surgeon,
John Foxx,
Porter Ricks,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Martian,
Johnny Clarke,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Moss Icon,
8 Eyed Spy,
Pole,
June Days,
Ituana,
Joy Division,
Wasted Youth,
Technova,
Slick Rick,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Depeche Mode,
Duran Duran,
Fatback Band,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Dennis Brown,
Metal Thangz,
Deepchord,
Hashim,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Nas,
Peter and Kerry,
The Slits,
Altered Images,
Cymande,
David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie.
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.