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 Burkina and from Mexico City.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Procol Harum to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Accadde A tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joy Division 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stockholm Monsters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q65,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Black Sheep,
Freddie Wadling,
Bob Dylan,
the Sonics,
June Days,
Howard Jones,
Hoover,
The Busters,
The Fuzztones,
Black Moon,
Albert Ayler,
Minnie Riperton,
Niagra,
Tom Boy,
This Heat,
Glenn Branca,
Byron Stingily,
Sarah Menescal,
Monolake,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Kerrie Biddell,
Crime,
These Immortal Souls,
KRS-One,
Jimmy McGriff,
Boz Scaggs,
Matthew Halsall,
Jeff Mills,
Audionom,
Rufus Thomas,
FM Einheit,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Stockholm Monsters,
DJ Sneak,
Barclay James Harvest,
Harry Pussy,
Suicide,
Hardrive,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Inner City,
Oblivians,
Duran Duran,
Alison Limerick,
Thompson Twins,
Soul Sonic Force,
Marshall Jefferson,
Country Teasers,
Agitation Free,
Barbara Tucker,
Ponytail,
Barry Ungar,
Newcleus,
Slave,
Ohio Players,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Beasts of Bourbon,
LL Cool J, LL Cool J, LL Cool J, LL Cool J.
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.