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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 guitar 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 The Techniques to the disco 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 New Age Steppers. All the underground hits.
All Notorious Big And Bone Thugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wally Richardson 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 arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Connie Case,
The Kinks,
The Dead C,
Ken Boothe,
The Birthday Party,
Robert Hood,
Idris Muhammad,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Susan Cadogan,
Metal Thangz,
Sandy B,
Soft Machine,
Harry Pussy,
A Certain Ratio,
Lightning Bolt,
The Young Rascals,
John Cale,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Stereo Dub,
Sällskapet,
Suicide,
Hasil Adkins,
These Immortal Souls,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Doors,
The Raincoats,
The Knickerbockers,
Neu!,
The Offenders,
Japan,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Kas Product,
Derrick May,
The Fall,
Desert Stars,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pussy Galore,
UT,
Graham Central Station,
Kerri Chandler,
The Leaves,
The Index,
Tears for Fears,
Matthew Halsall,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
the Germs,
Don Cherry,
Lou Christie,
Grandmaster Flash,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Blancmange,
The Walker Brothers,
Rekid,
Roy Ayers,
Y Pants,
David Bowie,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lakeside,
La Düsseldorf,
Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio.
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.