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 Benin and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 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 Rhythm & Sound to the grunge 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 The Searchers. All the underground hits.
All Drexciya tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marmalade 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Near record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Dual Sessions,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bobby Byrd,
Ken Boothe,
Josef K,
The Move,
Suicide,
Dorothy Ashby,
Magma,
The Last Poets,
Carl Craig,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Ralphi Rosario,
Mars,
Leonard Cohen,
Desert Stars,
Camouflage,
The Moleskins,
Ten City,
Urselle,
the Soft Cell,
K-Klass,
Tears for Fears,
Glambeats Corp.,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Quando Quango,
The Motions,
Grauzone,
Junior Murvin,
Marcia Griffiths,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Minutemen,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Joy Division,
Nik Kershaw,
Robert Hood,
Faraquet,
The Pretty Things,
Smog,
ABC,
10cc,
Jacob Miller,
48th St. Collective,
Anthony Braxton,
Tom Boy,
Byron Stingily,
Public Enemy,
The Stooges,
The Vogues,
Mark Hollis,
Graham Central Station,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Don Cherry,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Prince Buster,
Ronan,
Marvin Gaye,
Avey Tare,
Maleditus Sound,
The Cowsills,
The Mummies,
Von Mondo,
This Heat, This Heat, This Heat, This Heat.
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.