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 Switzerland and from Tehran.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 Nik Kershaw 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 The Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 10cc record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
The Skatalites,
Niagra,
Soft Machine,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Mark Hollis,
Stetsasonic,
Bauhaus,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Black Bananas,
Glenn Branca,
The Dead C,
The Beau Brummels,
CMW,
Ronnie Foster,
The Angels of Light,
Sexual Harrassment,
EPMD,
Hoover,
Darondo,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Easy Going,
David Axelrod,
Derrick May,
Sandy B,
Panda Bear,
John Holt,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Clear Light,
Little Man,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Moleskins,
Joe Smooth,
JFA,
Amazonics,
Eric B and Rakim,
Intrusion,
Moss Icon,
The Residents,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Wolf Eyes,
Babytalk,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Goldenarms,
Jerry's Kids,
Godley & Creme,
Carl Craig,
Matthew Halsall,
Don Cherry,
Bill Near,
The Mojo Men,
Man Parrish,
Deadbeat,
Pet Shop Boys,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Doobie Brothers,
Big Daddy Kane,
The J.B.'s,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog, Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog, Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog, Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog.
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.