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 Ethiopia and from Manchester.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 chamberlin 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 Ohio Players to the jazz 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 Yusef Lateef. All the underground hits.
All Zapp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stiv Bators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
EPMD,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Rekid,
Main Source,
Cal Tjader,
Los Fastidios,
Minutemen,
Johnny Clarke,
Terrestrial Tones,
LL Cool J,
The Index,
Lou Reed,
The Techniques,
Henry Cow,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pussy Galore,
The Music Machine,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Sonny Sharrock,
Pharoah Sanders,
David Bowie,
Wire,
Gichy Dan,
Mark Hollis,
Cheater Slicks,
Joyce Sims,
Masters at Work,
Lungfish,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Spandau Ballet,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Minnie Riperton,
The Dave Clark Five,
Crash Course in Science,
Stiv Bators,
Swans,
Mr. Review,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Goldenarms,
Steve Hackett,
Black Moon,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bobby Womack,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Inner City,
Arthur Verocai,
Nas,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
June of 44,
Fluxion,
Clear Light,
Erasure,
Faraquet,
48th St. Collective,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Fall,
Black Pus,
The Red Krayola,
The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones.
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.