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 Georgia and from Glasgow.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Eric Dolphy to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Boredoms. All the underground hits.
All F. McDonald tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every H. Thieme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deadbeat 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?
The Remains,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Offenders,
Jimmy McGriff,
Robert Wyatt,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bobbi Humphrey,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Index,
The Monks,
Scion,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Pierre Henry,
June of 44,
Cal Tjader,
Dual Sessions,
Half Japanese,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Newcleus,
The Cure,
Bobby Womack,
Bauhaus,
Slick Rick,
Dennis Brown,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Groovy Waters,
Sister Nancy,
Ituana,
New York Dolls,
Supertramp,
Alton Ellis,
Altered Images,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Youth Brigade,
Excepter,
These Immortal Souls,
The Five Americans,
Intrusion,
Malaria!,
Jandek,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Neon Judgement,
Ralphi Rosario,
X-Ray Spex,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Symarip,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Blues Magoos,
Tropical Tobacco,
Circle Jerks,
Clear Light,
Pole,
Kaleidoscope,
Wolf Eyes,
Grey Daturas,
Scan 7,
Lakeside,
The Fugs,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Slits,
Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin.
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.