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 Venezuela and from Glasgow.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Five Americans to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Last Poets. All the underground hits.
All The Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terror Squad Feat. Camron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cheater Slicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arab on Radar,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Rapeman,
Mr. Review,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Ultra Naté,
Newcleus,
Roxette,
Oneida,
Black Moon,
Depeche Mode,
Quadrant,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Mad Mike,
Cecil Taylor,
Eli Mardock,
The Monks,
The Moody Blues,
Maurizio,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Scan 7,
DJ Sneak,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Soft Cell,
The J.B.'s,
The Seeds,
Al Stewart,
Public Image Ltd.,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Rufus Thomas,
The Monochrome Set,
Magma,
Kool Moe Dee,
Cheater Slicks,
Wasted Youth,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Gladiators,
Tom Boy,
Funky Four + One,
Lindisfarne,
Mark Hollis,
The Golliwogs,
Kaleidoscope,
Gong,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ice-T,
Chris & Cosey,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Television,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Funkadelic,
The Tremeloes,
Procol Harum,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
the Germs,
One Last Wish,
Camberwell Now,
Black Pus,
Joyce Sims,
Peter and Kerry,
Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills.
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.