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 Sudan and from Bremen.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 F. McDonald to the grunge 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 UT. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick Morgan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy 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?
Wally Richardson,
Boogie Down Productions,
The American Breed,
a-ha,
Schoolly D,
Neu!,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Simply Red,
The Fugs,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Mad Mike,
Chris Corsano,
Model 500,
The Grass Roots,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Underground Resistance,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Public Enemy,
The Misunderstood,
Ralphi Rosario,
Brothers Johnson,
Trumans Water,
Blossom Toes,
Scratch Acid,
Bluetip,
The Walker Brothers,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sonny Sharrock,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
John Lydon,
Terrestrial Tones,
Talk Talk,
Alison Limerick,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The New Christs,
Gang Gang Dance,
Brass Construction,
Nik Kershaw,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Drive Like Jehu,
Susan Cadogan,
Robert Hood,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Last Poets,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ultra Naté,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
CMW,
Joensuu 1685,
The Sound,
Monolake,
T. Rex,
Soul Sonic Force,
Pharoah Sanders,
Connie Case,
Wolf Eyes,
Bill Wells,
Jimmy McGriff,
Rapeman,
Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton.
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.