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 Brunei and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Dead C to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Rosa Yemen. All the underground hits.
All Rahsaan Roland Kirk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every H. Thieme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Alarm Clocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash,
Soul II Soul,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ornette Coleman,
Barrington Levy,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Walker Brothers,
Arab on Radar,
Warsaw,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Crooked Eye,
The Cramps,
Basic Channel,
The Slits,
Jeff Lynne,
Youth Brigade,
Schoolly D,
This Heat,
Letta Mbulu,
Ultravox,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Motorama,
Eurythmics,
Althea and Donna,
Gang Starr,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sun City Girls,
Faust,
Robert Hood,
Slick Rick,
Reagan Youth,
the Soft Cell,
Sandy B,
Howard Jones,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Motions,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Drexciya,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Crispy Ambulance,
Josef K,
Pole,
Hasil Adkins,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Audionom,
Pulsallama,
U.S. Maple,
Hoover,
Marmalade,
Ohio Players,
The Monks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Fluxion,
Suburban Knight,
Mandrill,
Lindisfarne,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Raincoats,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark.
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.