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 Afghanistan and from Hong Kong.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Hasil Adkins to the grime 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 China Crisis. All the underground hits.
All The Alarm Clocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Audionom record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gabor Szabo 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?
The Move,
Motorama,
Pierre Henry,
Bob Dylan,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Khruangbin,
Jacob Miller,
Wings,
the Fania All-Stars,
Juan Atkins,
Metal Thangz,
The Stooges,
The Golliwogs,
Bronski Beat,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Brick,
Fatback Band,
The Slits,
Al Stewart,
Kool Moe Dee,
Hasil Adkins,
The Sonics,
Cecil Taylor,
Intrusion,
Susan Cadogan,
The Fugs,
Bootsy Collins,
The Leaves,
The Alarm Clocks,
Rites of Spring,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Sound,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Scan 7,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Busters,
Mad Mike,
Altered Images,
Depeche Mode,
Wolf Eyes,
The Real Kids,
Black Pus,
Bush Tetras,
Nirvana,
Inner City,
Siglo XX,
UT,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sex Pistols,
Index,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Davy DMX,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Patti Smith,
Drexciya,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Kerrie Biddell,
Barrington Levy,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Letta Mbulu,
Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn.
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.