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 Senegal and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Robert Palmer 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 T.S.O.L. to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Darondo. All the underground hits.
All Soul II Soul tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nico record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cecil Taylor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
Charles Mingus,
Henry Cow,
Shoche,
Flipper,
Los Fastidios,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Saints,
Lou Christie,
Kerri Chandler,
Toni Rubio,
The Count Five,
Ultra Naté,
Sex Pistols,
Jeff Mills,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Godley & Creme,
Groovy Waters,
Reuben Wilson,
Tres Demented,
8 Eyed Spy,
Wally Richardson,
Fear,
Livin' Joy,
Delta 5,
Cybotron,
The Vogues,
L. Decosne,
Basic Channel,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Raincoats,
Letta Mbulu,
Zero Boys,
Bootsy Collins,
The Music Machine,
T.S.O.L.,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Harry Pussy,
Piero Umiliani,
Freddie Wadling,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
ABBA,
Sixth Finger,
Derrick Morgan,
The Dirtbombs,
The Victims,
Au Pairs,
These Immortal Souls,
The Sound,
Yellowson,
Moss Icon,
Scan 7,
The Pop Group,
Jeru the Damaja,
Icehouse,
Subhumans,
Pole,
Surgeon,
Sonny Sharrock,
DJ Style,
Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid.
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.