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 Malta and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 rhodes 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 The Martian to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 EPMD. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlback tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Divine Comedy,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lower 48,
Mission of Burma,
Bush Tetras,
Icehouse,
The Moody Blues,
Minny Pops,
Junior Murvin,
Fat Boys,
Archie Shepp,
Don Cherry,
Maleditus Sound,
Second Layer,
Mary Jane Girls,
Robert Hood,
a-ha,
The Selecter,
In Retrospect,
The Star Department,
Section 25,
Monks,
Crispian St. Peters,
Soul Sonic Force,
Public Enemy,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Brick,
The Red Krayola,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Ultimate Spinach,
Gerry Rafferty,
T.S.O.L.,
Yellowson,
The Offenders,
The Invisible,
Groovy Waters,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Derrick Morgan,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Doobie Brothers,
Jeff Mills,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Boogie Down Productions,
Masters at Work,
Deepchord,
Sparks,
Nils Olav,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Delta 5,
Ice-T,
Eurythmics,
Sonny Sharrock,
June Days,
H. Thieme,
Goldenarms,
Patti Smith,
The Sound,
Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish.
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.