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 Nauru and from Paris.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Desert Stars to the dance 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 Dennis Brown. All the underground hits.
All Heavy D & The Boyz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Black Dice record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 10cc record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Litter,
F. McDonald,
Fluxion,
The Alarm Clocks,
Pussy Galore,
Sam Rivers,
Moby Grape,
The Remains,
Public Image Ltd.,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pagans,
Barrington Levy,
Quadrant,
Gong,
Interpol,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Fuzztones,
The Walker Brothers,
Gang Green,
The Modern Lovers,
Unwound,
This Heat,
Lebanon Hanover,
Bobby Womack,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Arab on Radar,
Neu!,
Terry Callier,
The Last Poets,
Harmonia,
Country Teasers,
In Retrospect,
Tomorrow,
Babytalk,
Moss Icon,
Livin' Joy,
X-101,
Mr. Review,
Bad Manners,
Slick Rick,
Davy DMX,
Byron Stingily,
Suicide,
Matthew Bourne,
Sugar Minott,
Blancmange,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Angry Samoans,
Hoover,
Black Sheep,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
London Community Gospel Choir,
cv313,
Youth Brigade,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ohio Players,
Dual Sessions,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Invisible,
Deepchord,
EPMD,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.