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 Costa Rica and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Toronto.
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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Silicon Teens to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Selecter. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Charles Mingus 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxette record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
Brothers Johnson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Zero Boys,
Al Stewart,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Divine Comedy,
The Doobie Brothers,
Cymande,
Japan,
Michelle Simonal,
B.T. Express,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Avey Tare,
Ronan,
Hoover,
Easy Going,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
In Retrospect,
Don Cherry,
the Fania All-Stars,
Black Pus,
Qualms,
Arcadia,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sister Nancy,
The Moody Blues,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Eden Ahbez,
Tomorrow,
Heaven 17,
The Searchers,
Symarip,
Judy Mowatt,
Funkadelic,
Whodini,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Flash Fearless,
The Young Rascals,
The Doors,
The Names,
Kool Moe Dee,
June Days,
Ice-T,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Laurel Aitken,
David Axelrod,
Flamin' Groovies,
the Sonics,
Gil Scott Heron,
Eve St. Jones,
Radiohead,
Audionom,
Jeru the Damaja,
Girls At Our Best!,
Tres Demented,
Matthew Halsall,
China Crisis,
Yusef Lateef,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Quantec,
Urselle, Urselle, Urselle, Urselle.
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.