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 Zambia and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Lyres. All the underground hits.
All Scrapy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Bananas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yaz,
Althea and Donna,
Procol Harum,
The Monochrome Set,
The Buckinghams,
Bad Manners,
Warren Ellis,
Ken Boothe,
Reuben Wilson,
Infiniti,
The Dirtbombs,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Clear Light,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Count Five,
Alison Limerick,
Black Bananas,
Scion,
Marc Almond,
Dorothy Ashby,
Cheater Slicks,
Eric Dolphy,
Audionom,
The Techniques,
Chris & Cosey,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Gladiators,
Rapeman,
Subhumans,
The Misunderstood,
Bronski Beat,
John Foxx,
The Happenings,
Matthew Bourne,
Prince Buster,
In Retrospect,
Gong,
The Fugs,
Graham Central Station,
Black Pus,
The Birthday Party,
Freddie Wadling,
One Last Wish,
Model 500,
Barbara Tucker,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Whodini,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Hot Snakes,
La Düsseldorf,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Barracudas,
Saccharine Trust,
Neil Young,
Unrelated Segments,
Erasure,
Funky Four + One,
Cymande,
Steve Hackett,
Johnny Clarke,
Duran Duran,
Excepter, Excepter, Excepter, Excepter.
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.