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 Paraguay and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Young Rascals to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Stiv Bators. All the underground hits.
All Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mighty Diamonds 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joy Division,
Marvin Gaye,
The Pretty Things,
Barbara Tucker,
The Standells,
Sun Ra,
John Coltrane,
Throbbing Gristle,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Liliput,
Minor Threat,
Henry Cow,
Young Marble Giants,
the Soft Cell,
The Dirtbombs,
Monks,
The Move,
Unwound,
Roy Ayers,
These Immortal Souls,
T. Rex,
Pantytec,
Brothers Johnson,
Duran Duran,
The Vogues,
Echospace,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Slick Rick,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Skatalites,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Dead C,
Bluetip,
Siglo XX,
Prince Buster,
Sandy B,
Q and Not U,
Pylon,
Tropical Tobacco,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Bauhaus,
Robert Hood,
Arcadia,
Boredoms,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Beau Brummels,
Supertramp,
Bootsy Collins,
JFA,
Gang Starr,
Isaac Hayes,
Sparks,
Minny Pops,
Idris Muhammad,
Fad Gadget,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ultravox,
Wings,
Crooked Eye,
the Fania All-Stars,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ituana, Ituana, Ituana, Ituana.
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.