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 Tonga and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Fela Kuti to the grunge 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 Kenny Larkin. All the underground hits.
All Rotary Connection tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pet Shop Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
Jeru the Damaja,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sister Nancy,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Black Flag,
Al Stewart,
Eli Mardock,
OOIOO,
Soul II Soul,
Clear Light,
The Barracudas,
The Trojans,
The Fall,
Jacques Brel,
Cabaret Voltaire,
T.S.O.L.,
Cymande,
A Flock of Seagulls,
the Bar-Kays,
Big Daddy Kane,
DNA,
Siglo XX,
Underground Resistance,
Scott Walker,
The Move,
The Shadows of Knight,
Minutemen,
Mars,
Reuben Wilson,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Swell Maps,
DJ Sneak,
Barrington Levy,
Roxy Music,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Yaz,
Suicide,
Althea and Donna,
Delon & Dalcan,
Brothers Johnson,
The Golliwogs,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Human League,
Delta 5,
Marshall Jefferson,
Derrick May,
Arthur Verocai,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Lyres,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bootsy Collins,
Tommy Roe,
Lou Christie,
The Dead C,
Lightning Bolt,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Monks,
Isaac Hayes,
Ten City,
Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock.
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.