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 Bahrain and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Shanghai.
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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Electric Prunes to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Pussy Galore. All the underground hits.
All Angels of Light & Akron/Family tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rites of Spring record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Groovy Waters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cramps,
CMW,
Malaria!,
The Seeds,
Fluxion,
Y Pants,
Panda Bear,
Pet Shop Boys,
Los Fastidios,
Wings,
kango's stein massive,
The Divine Comedy,
Pharoah Sanders,
a-ha,
the Association,
Maleditus Sound,
The Slits,
Half Japanese,
Gang Green,
The Mojo Men,
Guru Guru,
Eli Mardock,
Bobby Sherman,
Soulsonic Force,
Eurythmics,
Amon Düül,
Glenn Branca,
Jawbox,
The Black Dice,
New Age Steppers,
Juan Atkins,
Mo-Dettes,
Inner City,
Public Enemy,
Thee Headcoats,
H. Thieme,
Marine Girls,
the Sonics,
The Buckinghams,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Pretty Things,
the Slits,
The Sound,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Soft Cell,
Nico,
Zero Boys,
Joey Negro,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Marmalade,
Rekid,
The Neon Judgement,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Arab on Radar,
Throbbing Gristle,
Donald Byrd,
Roxy Music,
X-102,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Scan 7,
The Young Rascals,
The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks.
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.