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 Micronesia and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 Halifax and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 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 Yazoo to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Oblivians. All the underground hits.
All Whodini tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythim Is Rhythim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Symarip,
48th St. Collective,
Byron Stingily,
The Standells,
The Real Kids,
Mo-Dettes,
The Music Machine,
Aswad,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Chrome,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Gregory Isaacs,
Todd Rundgren,
MDC,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Black Sheep,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Chris & Cosey,
Black Bananas,
Suicide,
Jesper Dahlback,
Mr. Review,
Pet Shop Boys,
Carl Craig,
Niagra,
Bobby Womack,
Rod Modell,
Guru Guru,
Scientists,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Durutti Column,
Schoolly D,
The Martian,
Althea and Donna,
Interpol,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bill Wells,
Jacques Brel,
Minny Pops,
Lalann,
Pantytec,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Hoover,
Albert Ayler,
Steve Hackett,
John Coltrane,
Oneida,
Sex Pistols,
These Immortal Souls,
The Red Krayola,
Leonard Cohen,
E-Dancer,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Adolescents,
OOIOO,
The Smoke,
Gang of Four,
FM Einheit,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Faust,
Delta 5,
Eurythmics,
Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai.
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.