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 Egypt and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 spring reverb 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 Erasure to the rap 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 Boredoms. All the underground hits.
All Tom Boy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Massinfluence record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spoonie Gee,
Minnie Riperton,
Althea and Donna,
David Axelrod,
Visage,
China Crisis,
Magazine,
Bronski Beat,
The Misunderstood,
The Pretty Things,
Barrington Levy,
Bluetip,
The Fugs,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Blackbyrds,
Lindisfarne,
The Barracudas,
The Index,
Matthew Bourne,
The Red Krayola,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Patti Smith,
Rufus Thomas,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
June of 44,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Aswad,
X-Ray Spex,
Faust,
Funky Four + One,
Sixth Finger,
Joe Smooth,
T. Rex,
James White and The Blacks,
Minny Pops,
Anthony Braxton,
The Electric Prunes,
The Fortunes,
LL Cool J,
Technova,
Stiv Bators,
the Normal,
Alison Limerick,
Harpers Bizarre,
Surgeon,
Zapp,
New York Dolls,
Con Funk Shun,
Quantec,
Gabor Szabo,
The Golliwogs,
The Selecter,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Scratch Acid,
Dual Sessions,
The Grass Roots,
Metal Thangz,
Alice Coltrane,
The Offenders,
the Bar-Kays,
The Skatalites,
Absolute Body Control,
Rekid,
Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal.
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.