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 Botswana and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 Spokane and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare 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 Gang Starr to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Japan. All the underground hits.
All The Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aswad 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Germs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Adolescents,
Procol Harum,
Young Marble Giants,
Smog,
ABC,
Roy Ayers,
Todd Terry,
Cheater Slicks,
Judy Mowatt,
The Saints,
The Martian,
Newcleus,
Angry Samoans,
the Association,
EPMD,
Lungfish,
Kurtis Blow,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Funkadelic,
The Cramps,
Eric Dolphy,
Kenny Larkin,
Lebanon Hanover,
Godley & Creme,
Yusef Lateef,
The Vogues,
The Dave Clark Five,
Donald Byrd,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Laurel Aitken,
Sparks,
Porter Ricks,
Lee Hazlewood,
Motorama,
The Five Americans,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Mandrill,
Susan Cadogan,
Can,
Soft Machine,
H. Thieme,
Terry Callier,
Scott Walker,
Sarah Menescal,
Lindisfarne,
Supertramp,
Essential Logic,
Zero Boys,
Sight & Sound,
Scion,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The New Christs,
The Gun Club,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Roxette,
Reagan Youth,
Brand Nubian,
Black Moon,
Interpol,
Scan 7,
Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz.
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.