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 Suriname and from Madrid.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Crooked Eye to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 It's A Beautiful Day. All the underground hits.
All Motorama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pretty Things record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Youth Brigade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Grass Roots,
Los Fastidios,
Japan,
Soft Cell,
Guru Guru,
Fela Kuti,
Animal Collective,
Cluster,
Morten Harket,
Scan 7,
Electric Prunes,
The Fall,
Grey Daturas,
Pantytec,
Michelle Simonal,
Jeff Mills,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Skriet,
K-Klass,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
These Immortal Souls,
The Tremeloes,
Excepter,
Flamin' Groovies,
Gang Starr,
Marcia Griffiths,
Boz Scaggs,
Sarah Menescal,
Pere Ubu,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Yaz,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Flesh Eaters,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Deadbeat,
The Cosmic Jokers,
10cc,
Terry Callier,
Liliput,
Gabor Szabo,
The J.B.'s,
Eve St. Jones,
Judy Mowatt,
The Barracudas,
Tommy Roe,
Symarip,
The Cowsills,
Erasure,
Soul Sonic Force,
Bang On A Can,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Visage,
Main Source,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Searchers,
Idris Muhammad,
R.M.O.,
Donny Hathaway,
Fear,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.