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 Marshall Islands and from Manila.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Ronnie Foster to the funk 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 Warsaw. All the underground hits.
All Agitation Free tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gary Puckett & The Union Gap record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Standells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grauzone,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Symarip,
David Axelrod,
X-101,
Aswad,
Ronnie Foster,
Bad Manners,
Wire,
The Star Department,
The J.B.'s,
Urselle,
Eddi Front,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Barracudas,
The Last Poets,
the Slits,
Ten City,
Todd Terry,
The Blues Magoos,
Harry Pussy,
The Techniques,
Essential Logic,
Minnie Riperton,
Bluetip,
Althea and Donna,
The Dirtbombs,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Martian,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Mandrill,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Mojo Men,
Isaac Hayes,
Erasure,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sun City Girls,
Sarah Menescal,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bauhaus,
New York Dolls,
The Saints,
Underground Resistance,
Hasil Adkins,
The Sound,
Sugar Minott,
Groovy Waters,
Gerry Rafferty,
Y Pants,
Black Flag,
The Residents,
Joe Finger,
Byron Stingily,
Mission of Burma,
Idris Muhammad,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Doobie Brothers,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Barbara Tucker,
Fela Kuti,
Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas.
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.