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 Gabon and from Glasgow.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 organ 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 Jimmy McGriff to the punk 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 Marc Almond. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Section 25 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Depeche Mode,
Public Enemy,
B.T. Express,
Agent Orange,
Pierre Henry,
John Holt,
Nas,
MC5,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Rufus Thomas,
China Crisis,
The Leaves,
The Busters,
Khruangbin,
The Gap Band,
The Sound,
Bobby Sherman,
Ultimate Spinach,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Gang Green,
Desert Stars,
Eden Ahbez,
Derrick Morgan,
EPMD,
Liliput,
Aswad,
Drive Like Jehu,
Vladislav Delay,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Bad Manners,
Thee Headcoats,
Nils Olav,
The Motions,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Joey Negro,
Al Stewart,
Franke,
Pantytec,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Spoonie Gee,
Gichy Dan,
Simply Red,
Marshall Jefferson,
Mars,
Scott Walker,
Masters at Work,
Ken Boothe,
Guru Guru,
The Martian,
Boz Scaggs,
Josef K,
The Vogues,
Magma,
The Cramps,
Little Man,
Jandek,
Gang Starr,
Soft Cell,
The Tremeloes,
The Index, The Index, The Index, The Index.
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.