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 Cameroon and from Philadelphia.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 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 the Slits to the rap 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 Supertramp. All the underground hits.
All 48th St. Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Byron Stingily record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mad Mike,
Khruangbin,
Porter Ricks,
Angry Samoans,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Beau Brummels,
Q and Not U,
B.T. Express,
ABC,
Johnny Osbourne,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Warren Ellis,
Depeche Mode,
T.S.O.L.,
Essential Logic,
The Techniques,
Soulsonic Force,
Joe Finger,
Camouflage,
The Cramps,
Swans,
The Invisible,
The Misunderstood,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Rites of Spring,
Magazine,
Mission of Burma,
Zero Boys,
Boz Scaggs,
Eurythmics,
Marcia Griffiths,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Radio Birdman,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Tremeloes,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Letta Mbulu,
Neu!,
Infiniti,
Bauhaus,
Lucky Dragons,
Terry Callier,
Gang Gang Dance,
Brothers Johnson,
Dawn Penn,
Skarface,
Delta 5,
Model 500,
Excepter,
Sister Nancy,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Lee Hazlewood,
Shuggie Otis,
The Star Department,
The Slackers,
Ronan,
Flash Fearless,
Glambeats Corp.,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ultravox,
Buzzcocks,
The Happenings,
Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan.
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.