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 Oman and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 spring reverb 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 Kerri Chandler to the punk 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 Public Image Ltd.. All the underground hits.
All Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marshall Jefferson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
H. Thieme,
Soul II Soul,
Dennis Brown,
The Knickerbockers,
Nirvana,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
the Soft Cell,
Desert Stars,
Unwound,
Y Pants,
Bluetip,
Monolake,
Unrelated Segments,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Lalo Schifrin,
Juan Atkins,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Amazonics,
Ken Boothe,
Sixth Finger,
Joe Smooth,
Yusef Lateef,
The Birthday Party,
Ultra Naté,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Divine Comedy,
Graham Central Station,
AZ,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Velvet Underground,
Outsiders,
Panda Bear,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Index,
Nik Kershaw,
John Lydon,
John Coltrane,
Oneida,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Pole,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sex Pistols,
LL Cool J,
T. Rex,
Hoover,
Cluster,
Howard Jones,
Andrew Hill,
The Leaves,
Boz Scaggs,
Fatback Band,
The Fall,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Ultimate Spinach,
Anthony Braxton,
Wally Richardson,
Niagra,
The Misunderstood,
Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire.
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.