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 Lebanon and from Philadelphia.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 808 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 Yusef Lateef to the grunge 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family. All the underground hits.
All Ice-T tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donald Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
The Slackers,
Agent Orange,
Robert Hood,
Robert Görl,
PIL,
Stockholm Monsters,
Jeff Mills,
K-Klass,
Gerry Rafferty,
X-102,
Joe Finger,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Donald Byrd,
Vladislav Delay,
Henry Cow,
Brass Construction,
David McCallum,
Nick Fraelich,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Aural Exciters,
China Crisis,
Massinfluence,
Hasil Adkins,
Das Ding,
Jacob Miller,
Spoonie Gee,
Deakin,
Qualms,
Crispy Ambulance,
Morten Harket,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Quando Quango,
Blancmange,
Rhythm & Sound,
Max Romeo,
Bob Dylan,
Pet Shop Boys,
The J.B.'s,
Radiohead,
Y Pants,
Surgeon,
Lindisfarne,
Oneida,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Last Poets,
Interpol,
Skarface,
Jerry Gold Smith,
CMW,
John Coltrane,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Fire Engines,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Soft Cell,
Nation of Ulysses,
Deadbeat,
Derrick Morgan,
Kerri Chandler,
the Bar-Kays,
Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17.
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.