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 Nigeria and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the marimba 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 Anakelly to the grime 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All OOIOO tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Misunderstood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeru the Damaja,
Radiopuhelimet,
10cc,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sarah Menescal,
The New Christs,
The Wake,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Scan 7,
Barclay James Harvest,
Eden Ahbez,
The Trojans,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Tropical Tobacco,
MDC,
Surgeon,
Bronski Beat,
The Fortunes,
Bad Manners,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Judy Mowatt,
Al Stewart,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Wire,
Parry Music,
The Buckinghams,
The Gun Club,
Radiohead,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Faraquet,
The Moleskins,
Mo-Dettes,
Scott Walker,
Idris Muhammad,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Dawn Penn,
Supertramp,
Can,
Monks,
Donald Byrd,
The Fuzztones,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Matthew Bourne,
John Foxx,
Warsaw,
Roxette,
Pylon,
Bush Tetras,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Theoretical Girls,
The Birthday Party,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Kas Product,
The Standells,
Minnie Riperton,
Mantronix,
Echospace,
The Kinks,
Mission of Burma,
Sixth Finger,
Trumans Water,
Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars.
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.