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 Equatorial Guinea and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 808 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 D'Angelo to the dance 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 Masters at Work. All the underground hits.
All Art Ensemble Of Chicago tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalann record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soul II Soul,
Erykah Badu,
Procol Harum,
Robert Hood,
Crooked Eye,
AZ,
Rites of Spring,
MC5,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Television Personalities,
The Invisible,
Technova,
Sparks,
The Walker Brothers,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Archie Shepp,
The Neon Judgement,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sam Rivers,
Dark Day,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Todd Terry,
Steve Hackett,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Residents,
Agitation Free,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
One Last Wish,
Cecil Taylor,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Jandek,
Ken Boothe,
the Normal,
Pylon,
Interpol,
The Searchers,
Cameo,
Bobby Byrd,
Rapeman,
Delta 5,
Blake Baxter,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Joey Negro,
Schoolly D,
Public Enemy,
Iggy Pop,
Metal Thangz,
Brick,
Essential Logic,
Bob Dylan,
Roxy Music,
The Moleskins,
Japan,
The American Breed,
The Cure,
Letta Mbulu,
Minny Pops,
Throbbing Gristle,
Maurizio,
The Gap Band,
Max Romeo,
the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics.
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.