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 Nepal and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Techniques. All the underground hits.
All Jandek tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantaleimon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mummies,
Grey Daturas,
Intrusion,
Blancmange,
Letta Mbulu,
Junior Murvin,
Kevin Saunderson,
Eurythmics,
Rotary Connection,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Yaz,
New York Dolls,
A Certain Ratio,
Pantytec,
Idris Muhammad,
Mr. Review,
Glambeats Corp.,
Bronski Beat,
Thee Headcoats,
Warsaw,
Agent Orange,
Pierre Henry,
the Normal,
Rekid,
Todd Terry,
Depeche Mode,
Lindisfarne,
Jerry Gold Smith,
ABBA,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Smoke,
Faraquet,
T.S.O.L.,
Neu!,
Brass Construction,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Lightning Bolt,
Whodini,
the Fania All-Stars,
Juan Atkins,
Ludus,
The Durutti Column,
The Doobie Brothers,
Angry Samoans,
Magma,
Dennis Brown,
The Slits,
Toni Rubio,
Matthew Halsall,
Scientists,
MDC,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Goldenarms,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Lou Christie,
Dead Boys,
Little Man,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Young Marble Giants,
Cameo,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club.
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.