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 Sri Lanka and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 harpsichord 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 Bad Manners to the crunk 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 Bluetip. All the underground hits.
All London Community Gospel Choir tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roger Hodgson 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 synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Can,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Howard Jones,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sparks,
Jesper Dahlback,
Underground Resistance,
Quadrant,
Aswad,
John Cale,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Carl Craig,
Tropical Tobacco,
Magma,
Dawn Penn,
the Germs,
Khruangbin,
Maleditus Sound,
Depeche Mode,
Lightning Bolt,
Jeru the Damaja,
Cheater Slicks,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Kevin Saunderson,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Eurythmics,
Boogie Down Productions,
Qualms,
Japan,
Lower 48,
The Cure,
Sonny Sharrock,
Stetsasonic,
Tres Demented,
The Smoke,
The Blues Magoos,
EPMD,
Smog,
The Neon Judgement,
Sister Nancy,
LL Cool J,
the Sonics,
The Invisible,
Siglo XX,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Kaleidoscope,
Excepter,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Smiths,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Crispian St. Peters,
Black Pus,
Los Fastidios,
Derrick May,
The Electric Prunes,
Peter & Gordon,
Gong,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Gang Starr,
Q and Not U,
The Fire Engines,
Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff.
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.