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 Papua New Guinea and from Edmonton.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Last Poets to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Japan. All the underground hits.
All Fela Kuti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heaven 17 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ 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?
Danielle Patucci,
KRS-One,
Joyce Sims,
Joey Negro,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sex Pistols,
Khruangbin,
Circle Jerks,
Pantytec,
Oneida,
The Durutti Column,
Eddi Front,
Ohio Players,
DJ Sneak,
Model 500,
Monks,
Bobby Womack,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Second Layer,
Newcleus,
Index,
Nirvana,
Y Pants,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sarah Menescal,
The Tremeloes,
Brand Nubian,
Ralphi Rosario,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Excepter,
The Blues Magoos,
Robert Görl,
Sandy B,
Skaos,
The Blackbyrds,
Trumans Water,
These Immortal Souls,
Make Up,
Warren Ellis,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sonny Sharrock,
Anthony Braxton,
Electric Prunes,
Monolake,
Lalann,
Slave,
Rites of Spring,
David Bowie,
Al Stewart,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Jandek,
Thompson Twins,
Piero Umiliani,
Mantronix,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sam Rivers,
Nils Olav,
Sugar Minott,
Shoche,
The Evens,
Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes.
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.