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 Argentina and from Edmonton.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the mellotron 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the techno 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 Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All Kool Moe Dee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fluxion 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scrapy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vladislav Delay,
Sex Pistols,
Sonny Sharrock,
Oblivians,
Anakelly,
F. McDonald,
Boogie Down Productions,
Fad Gadget,
Soulsonic Force,
Lightning Bolt,
Supertramp,
Mission of Burma,
David McCallum,
Flamin' Groovies,
Jandek,
Moby Grape,
Aswad,
Thompson Twins,
Marc Almond,
Stiv Bators,
The New Christs,
Maurizio,
Frankie Knuckles,
Goldenarms,
Man Parrish,
These Immortal Souls,
Swell Maps,
Procol Harum,
Visage,
Bill Wells,
K-Klass,
Con Funk Shun,
Boz Scaggs,
Barrington Levy,
Black Bananas,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Slave,
New Order,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
In Retrospect,
Warsaw,
The Neon Judgement,
the Human League,
Joe Finger,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Fall,
Can,
Warren Ellis,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Livin' Joy,
June of 44,
The Monks,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Hoover,
Basic Channel,
Delon & Dalcan,
Spandau Ballet,
Motorama, Motorama, Motorama, Motorama.
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.