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 Lebanon and from Mexico City.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Davy DMX to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Gerry Rafferty. All the underground hits.
All Bad Manners tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lightning Bolt,
Cal Tjader,
Depeche Mode,
Amazonics,
The Tremeloes,
The Residents,
Silicon Teens,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Darondo,
The Real Kids,
Graham Central Station,
Urselle,
Brand Nubian,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Birthday Party,
the Normal,
Derrick May,
T. Rex,
Ornette Coleman,
The Grass Roots,
Chris Corsano,
Moss Icon,
Harry Pussy,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Skatalites,
Kayak,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Letta Mbulu,
Lakeside,
Adolescents,
Max Romeo,
Fluxion,
Anakelly,
Todd Rundgren,
Piero Umiliani,
Clear Light,
Tears for Fears,
Connie Case,
Crispian St. Peters,
Gang Gang Dance,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Stiv Bators,
The Smiths,
a-ha,
Jeff Mills,
The Monks,
Toni Rubio,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Tommy Roe,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Angels of Light,
Television,
Joyce Sims,
Swell Maps,
David McCallum,
The American Breed,
Chris & Cosey,
Aural Exciters,
Severed Heads,
Sällskapet,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd.
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.