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 France and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Faraquet to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Liliput. All the underground hits.
All Eyeless In Gaza tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hardrive 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gladiators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doors,
The Kinks,
Niagra,
David Bowie,
Barry Ungar,
L. Decosne,
Absolute Body Control,
Radiopuhelimet,
Amon Düül,
Thee Headcoats,
Frankie Knuckles,
Public Enemy,
Half Japanese,
Bill Near,
MC5,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Sex Pistols,
Ken Boothe,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Human League,
The Neon Judgement,
The Real Kids,
Angry Samoans,
The Zeros,
the Slits,
Rod Modell,
The Durutti Column,
FM Einheit,
Yazoo,
The New Christs,
the Germs,
The Happenings,
Masters at Work,
Roxette,
Soulsonic Force,
Inner City,
The Vogues,
The Fuzztones,
Sam Rivers,
John Coltrane,
Eric Copeland,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Kaleidoscope,
Danielle Patucci,
Scan 7,
Scion,
Funky Four + One,
The Alarm Clocks,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sonny Sharrock,
Wasted Youth,
X-Ray Spex,
Aural Exciters,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Motions,
Matthew Bourne,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Judy Mowatt,
The Cure,
The Blues Magoos,
Section 25,
Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy.
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.