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 Barbados and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Jakarta.
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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the marimba 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 Johnny Clarke to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sam Rivers. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rosa Yemen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blake Baxter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Stetsasonic,
Jerry's Kids,
Malaria!,
Todd Terry,
Technova,
Black Pus,
the Sonics,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Q and Not U,
Livin' Joy,
The Saints,
H. Thieme,
Loose Ends,
Wings,
Ludus,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Mojo Men,
Kool Moe Dee,
Scratch Acid,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Iggy Pop,
Mantronix,
The American Breed,
Zapp,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ossler,
Boz Scaggs,
The Sound,
Suburban Knight,
The Happenings,
Pylon,
The Skatalites,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Reagan Youth,
Minutemen,
Colin Newman,
The New Christs,
Juan Atkins,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
U.S. Maple,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Star Department,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Kayak,
Lightning Bolt,
Quadrant,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Dead C,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Neil Young,
John Cale,
The Residents,
The Count Five,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Names,
Chrome,
The Angels of Light,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Gang Green,
Morten Harket,
Tres Demented,
Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef.
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.