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 Macedonia and from New York.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Scratch Acid. All the underground hits.
All Minny Pops tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blancmange 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bluetip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rakim,
Rapeman,
Depeche Mode,
The Blues Magoos,
Cybotron,
Camberwell Now,
Pulsallama,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Neon Judgement,
Monks,
Pierre Henry,
Magazine,
Curtis Mayfield,
Bobby Byrd,
Gang of Four,
Jeru the Damaja,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Divine Comedy,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Offenders,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Technova,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Thee Headcoats,
Cymande,
Arcadia,
kango's stein massive,
Black Moon,
Man Parrish,
Tomorrow,
The Gap Band,
Kas Product,
The Toasters,
Brick,
Radio Birdman,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bob Dylan,
Anthony Braxton,
Kool Moe Dee,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Joe Finger,
Connie Case,
World's Most,
Eve St. Jones,
Massinfluence,
the Association,
The Pop Group,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Nick Fraelich,
Mary Jane Girls,
Wings,
The Barracudas,
Althea and Donna,
Skriet,
Colin Newman,
The Young Rascals,
Quantec,
The Motions, The Motions, The Motions, The Motions.
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.