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 Ivory Coast and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Gladiators to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Second Layer. All the underground hits.
All Frankie Knuckles tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans 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 an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ralphi Rosario record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Au Pairs,
Hoover,
Chris & Cosey,
Pantaleimon,
The Modern Lovers,
Gichy Dan,
The Barracudas,
Deadbeat,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Golliwogs,
Eric Dolphy,
Maurizio,
Jacob Miller,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Boogie Down Productions,
Man Parrish,
T. Rex,
MC5,
Shoche,
Eddi Front,
Robert Hood,
Fatback Band,
Banda Bassotti,
La Düsseldorf,
Suicide,
Sun City Girls,
Al Stewart,
ABBA,
Alphaville,
Todd Rundgren,
Ludus,
Nation of Ulysses,
Supertramp,
Thompson Twins,
Lou Christie,
Circle Jerks,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
David McCallum,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Sam Rivers,
The Tremeloes,
Gang Starr,
Bronski Beat,
Ituana,
Grandmaster Flash,
Surgeon,
Josef K,
Roger Hodgson,
Althea and Donna,
Angry Samoans,
Funky Four + One,
The Angels of Light,
Visage,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Index,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
AZ,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Slackers,
Kerrie Biddell,
Skarface,
Severed Heads,
Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May.
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.