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 Kazakhstan and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 snare 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 Hot Snakes to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All Pharoah Sanders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terror Squad Feat. Camron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skarface,
Cecil Taylor,
Babytalk,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Rufus Thomas,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Wolf Eyes,
the Association,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Smiths,
Eric B and Rakim,
Rites of Spring,
The Dave Clark Five,
Youth Brigade,
The Smoke,
Erasure,
Rekid,
Second Layer,
Tropical Tobacco,
48th St. Collective,
The Offenders,
Warren Ellis,
Funkadelic,
Shoche,
Panda Bear,
This Heat,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Selecter,
Radio Birdman,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Maleditus Sound,
Traffic Nightmare,
Alison Limerick,
Boogie Down Productions,
OOIOO,
Arthur Verocai,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
CMW,
The Last Poets,
Los Fastidios,
The Toasters,
Visage,
10cc,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lindisfarne,
Lucky Dragons,
Todd Terry,
The Young Rascals,
LL Cool J,
Kaleidoscope,
Peter & Gordon,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Lower 48,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Dark Day,
Bad Manners,
Al Stewart,
Camberwell Now,
Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown.
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.