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 Haiti and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 güiro 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 Ultramagnetic MC's to the funk 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 Ronan. All the underground hits.
All Crash Course in Science tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Buzzcocks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ituana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ituana,
Crime,
Altered Images,
The Searchers,
The Divine Comedy,
Throbbing Gristle,
EPMD,
Country Teasers,
Masters at Work,
Television Personalities,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Slits,
Lakeside,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sarah Menescal,
Sugar Minott,
Nils Olav,
Fluxion,
The Electric Prunes,
The Slackers,
Inner City,
Max Romeo,
KRS-One,
The New Christs,
Supertramp,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Happenings,
Sixth Finger,
Marine Girls,
Graham Central Station,
Groovy Waters,
Alison Limerick,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Arthur Verocai,
Soul Sonic Force,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bronski Beat,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Crash Course in Science,
Bad Manners,
8 Eyed Spy,
Godley & Creme,
Dawn Penn,
Newcleus,
JFA,
The Cramps,
Con Funk Shun,
Khruangbin,
Alton Ellis,
Marmalade,
Soulsonic Force,
Pussy Galore,
the Human League,
Howard Jones,
Lindisfarne,
Monolake,
Fear,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.