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 Zambia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 Joyce Sims to the electroclash 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 T. Rex. All the underground hits.
All Funky Four + One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Don Cherry 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Loose Ends,
Roger Hodgson,
Flipper,
Intrusion,
MC5,
Infiniti,
Black Moon,
Pylon,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Big Daddy Kane,
Angry Samoans,
Average White Band,
The Pretty Things,
Duran Duran,
Aural Exciters,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
DNA,
The Gladiators,
Banda Bassotti,
Delta 5,
Funkadelic,
Technova,
Von Mondo,
Harry Pussy,
Fad Gadget,
Boz Scaggs,
the Human League,
Sugar Minott,
Model 500,
DJ Sneak,
Tres Demented,
The Litter,
Shuggie Otis,
cv313,
the Normal,
Kerri Chandler,
Buzzcocks,
Davy DMX,
Gang Gang Dance,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Arthur Verocai,
Eurythmics,
Ken Boothe,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Fall,
John Foxx,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Junior Murvin,
Donny Hathaway,
Eddi Front,
Morten Harket,
Fugazi,
John Lydon,
Magma,
Lalo Schifrin,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Godley & Creme,
The Durutti Column,
Drexciya,
The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams.
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.