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 Croatia and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Cairo.
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 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Sound Behaviour. All the underground hits.
All Crash Course in Science tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Lydon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
B.T. Express,
Skarface,
Faust,
Whodini,
Donald Byrd,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Unwound,
Ten City,
The Mojo Men,
Eden Ahbez,
Donny Hathaway,
A Certain Ratio,
LL Cool J,
Man Parrish,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Raincoats,
Andrew Hill,
Mantronix,
The Invisible,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Bill Wells,
Mars,
Mo-Dettes,
Al Stewart,
Buzzcocks,
Boz Scaggs,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
MDC,
The Saints,
Intrusion,
Dave Gahan,
the Soft Cell,
Negative Approach,
David Bowie,
Yusef Lateef,
Ohio Players,
Cecil Taylor,
Glambeats Corp.,
Scott Walker,
Moss Icon,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Techniques,
The New Christs,
X-101,
Ornette Coleman,
Interpol,
Sexual Harrassment,
Funky Four + One,
DNA,
Nirvana,
Suburban Knight,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Don Cherry,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sam Rivers,
Rites of Spring,
Yazoo,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Red Krayola,
Hoover,
Soulsonic Force,
Inner City, Inner City, Inner City, Inner City.
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.