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 Latvia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
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 Jeru the Damaja to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Traffic Nightmare. All the underground hits.
All DeepChord presents Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blossom Toes 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Tremeloes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sandy B,
The Saints,
Desert Stars,
Pierre Henry,
Gerry Rafferty,
Y Pants,
Subhumans,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Cowsills,
June of 44,
John Cale,
Fatback Band,
Unwound,
Albert Ayler,
Peter & Gordon,
The Monks,
Radiopuhelimet,
Buzzcocks,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Fugs,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Camberwell Now,
Yellowson,
Drive Like Jehu,
Josef K,
Lee Hazlewood,
Bang On A Can,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Slackers,
Curtis Mayfield,
Oneida,
The Misunderstood,
Nation of Ulysses,
Howard Jones,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Gang Starr,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
10cc,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Happenings,
Kas Product,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pagans,
Fort Wilson Riot,
D'Angelo,
Grandmaster Flash,
Avey Tare,
Malaria!,
Marvin Gaye,
Kerri Chandler,
Nils Olav,
cv313,
the Sonics,
X-102,
Pylon,
Lebanon Hanover,
June Days,
Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke.
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.