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 Serbia and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Eric B and Rakim to the grunge 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 Fluxion. All the underground hits.
All Mission of Burma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moby Grape record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABBA,
The Offenders,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Star Department,
Main Source,
Bauhaus,
Gang Green,
Marvin Gaye,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Adolescents,
Visage,
Rekid,
Kerrie Biddell,
Jeff Mills,
Little Man,
X-Ray Spex,
Scrapy,
Soft Cell,
Patti Smith,
Pole,
The Raincoats,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Flamin' Groovies,
Young Marble Giants,
Warsaw,
Sarah Menescal,
The Victims,
The Tremeloes,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Funky Four + One,
Scott Walker,
MDC,
Los Fastidios,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Fluxion,
Chrome,
KRS-One,
Banda Bassotti,
Guru Guru,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Cluster,
Con Funk Shun,
Terry Callier,
Icehouse,
Roxy Music,
Barrington Levy,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Chris & Cosey,
Nik Kershaw,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Jacques Brel,
La Düsseldorf,
Rod Modell,
The Gap Band,
Radio Birdman,
Infiniti,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Modern Lovers,
the Human League,
Pylon,
Mo-Dettes,
Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow.
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.