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 Uruguay and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Paris.
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 marimba 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 Judy Mowatt 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 H. Thieme. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Mills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Clear Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Outsiders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grauzone,
Erasure,
Darondo,
Inner City,
Supertramp,
Mary Jane Girls,
Scion,
Sugar Minott,
Thompson Twins,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
New York Dolls,
Barrington Levy,
Letta Mbulu,
The Mummies,
The Monks,
Kevin Saunderson,
Monks,
Black Pus,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sixth Finger,
Davy DMX,
Ronan,
Black Moon,
The Gun Club,
Iggy Pop,
Ten City,
Cybotron,
The Doors,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Scan 7,
China Crisis,
Boz Scaggs,
Ice-T,
Can,
Joy Division,
World's Most,
Franke,
Rites of Spring,
John Coltrane,
Tubeway Army,
Second Layer,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Donny Hathaway,
Camberwell Now,
Visage,
Glenn Branca,
Sonny Sharrock,
Amazonics,
Urselle,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Walker Brothers,
Charles Mingus,
Malaria!,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Dual Sessions,
The Dirtbombs,
D'Angelo,
Marc Almond,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Skarface, Skarface, Skarface, Skarface.
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.