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 Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 48th St. Collective to the disco 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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes. All the underground hits.
All Colin Newman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythm & Sound 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Invisible,
The Selecter,
Procol Harum,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Inner City,
Jeff Lynne,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Ultra Naté,
Mr. Review,
The Skatalites,
The Fuzztones,
The Dirtbombs,
Mad Mike,
Dawn Penn,
Ronnie Foster,
The Wake,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Joyce Sims,
The Red Krayola,
Delta 5,
The Doobie Brothers,
Eddi Front,
Talk Talk,
Bad Manners,
Supertramp,
Theoretical Girls,
The Detroit Cobras,
E-Dancer,
David Axelrod,
Iggy Pop,
Dorothy Ashby,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Jawbox,
Magazine,
The Human League,
Boogie Down Productions,
Mark Hollis,
Pantaleimon,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Todd Terry,
The Sonics,
The Cramps,
The Flesh Eaters,
Soul Sonic Force,
Nas,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Bizarre Inc.,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
New York Dolls,
Pagans,
Darondo,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Camberwell Now,
Royal Trux,
Toni Rubio,
the Human League,
The Neon Judgement,
the Fania All-Stars,
T. Rex,
Vainqueur,
Steve Hackett,
June of 44, June of 44, June of 44, June of 44.
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.