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 Gabon and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Calgary.
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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Cabaret Voltaire to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Amazonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rod Modell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sparks,
Eric Copeland,
Pussy Galore,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Slave,
cv313,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Scratch Acid,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Aaron Thompson,
Yellowson,
the Fania All-Stars,
Parry Music,
Susan Cadogan,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Searchers,
The Kinks,
Stockholm Monsters,
Soulsonic Force,
Con Funk Shun,
Pharoah Sanders,
Minny Pops,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Freddie Wadling,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Aloha Tigers,
The Saints,
Electric Light Orchestra,
New Age Steppers,
Roxy Music,
The Modern Lovers,
Can,
The Trojans,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sun City Girls,
Black Bananas,
Alphaville,
Pylon,
Donald Byrd,
Shoche,
Country Teasers,
The Pretty Things,
Robert Wyatt,
Steve Hackett,
The Slits,
F. McDonald,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Wake,
Index,
Dark Day,
Niagra,
The Last Poets,
Andrew Hill,
The Offenders,
Severed Heads,
Franke,
Juan Atkins,
The Durutti Column,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Davy DMX,
Tomorrow,
David McCallum,
Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine.
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.