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 Nicaragua and from Glasgow.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Sly & The Family Stone to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 A Flock of Seagulls. All the underground hits.
All Isaac Hayes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Laurel Aitken record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Simply Red record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mummies,
Slick Rick,
Susan Cadogan,
Stockholm Monsters,
Metal Thangz,
The Slackers,
Quando Quango,
Jawbox,
Pylon,
Pantytec,
Yaz,
The Mojo Men,
John Foxx,
Charles Mingus,
The Trojans,
The Searchers,
Gong,
Arab on Radar,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Agent Orange,
Mark Hollis,
The Residents,
Don Cherry,
Carl Craig,
The Sisters of Mercy,
X-101,
Sparks,
Barclay James Harvest,
The J.B.'s,
Jeru the Damaja,
Cymande,
The Count Five,
Deakin,
Gabor Szabo,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sugar Minott,
Henry Cow,
Radiohead,
Blossom Toes,
Boz Scaggs,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Rosa Yemen,
Swell Maps,
Cluster,
The Neon Judgement,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Thee Headcoats,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Flesh Eaters,
Jesper Dahlback,
Can,
Harpers Bizarre,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
D'Angelo,
David Bowie,
Motorama,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.