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 Saudi Arabia and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 theremin 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 Average White Band 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 Barclay James Harvest. All the underground hits.
All The Smoke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ice-T 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 '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 U.S. Maple record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Fugazi,
Soul Sonic Force,
Echospace,
10cc,
DJ Style,
Fatback Band,
The Real Kids,
Make Up,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sex Pistols,
Neil Young,
Eric B and Rakim,
Prince Buster,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Doors,
The Pretty Things,
Heaven 17,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Das Ding,
Circle Jerks,
Pagans,
Vainqueur,
Sparks,
Inner City,
Babytalk,
Traffic Nightmare,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ralphi Rosario,
cv313,
Grey Daturas,
Main Source,
Technova,
Peter & Gordon,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Goldenarms,
Stetsasonic,
Toni Rubio,
Franke,
David Bowie,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Radio Birdman,
Electric Prunes,
Cybotron,
Metal Thangz,
the Swans,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Gories,
Chris Corsano,
Chrome,
Howard Jones,
Freddie Wadling,
L. Decosne,
Monks,
Pantytec,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ossler,
The Residents,
Funkadelic,
John Foxx,
Boredoms,
Talk Talk,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.