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 Netherlands and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 clarinet 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 Pharoah Sanders to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family. All the underground hits.
All Gang Starr tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Talk Talk 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric Copeland,
Marshall Jefferson,
Moby Grape,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Real Kids,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Masters at Work,
Slick Rick,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Skriet,
Barry Ungar,
Bootsy Collins,
The Star Department,
Johnny Osbourne,
Jeff Mills,
Monolake,
The Raincoats,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Royal Trux,
kango's stein massive,
Cameo,
Nation of Ulysses,
Donald Byrd,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Neil Young,
Joy Division,
The Associates,
Matthew Bourne,
Bill Near,
Malaria!,
The Saints,
Joyce Sims,
Mars,
AZ,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
cv313,
Saccharine Trust,
The Stooges,
The Litter,
Fad Gadget,
Theoretical Girls,
Camberwell Now,
Tommy Roe,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Rhythm & Sound,
Scrapy,
Pere Ubu,
Neu!,
Ohio Players,
Nico,
Model 500,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Patti Smith,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Fugs,
Heaven 17,
Marcia Griffiths,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Tim Buckley,
The Evens,
In Retrospect,
John Foxx,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Move,
John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane.
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.