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 Singapore and from Delhi.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Ralphi Rosario to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Prince Buster. All the underground hits.
All Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Beasts of Bourbon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
CMW,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Popol Vuh,
The Mummies,
Rakim,
Slick Rick,
Nico,
Kevin Saunderson,
Cal Tjader,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Con Funk Shun,
Gabor Szabo,
Kool Moe Dee,
Au Pairs,
Morten Harket,
the Soft Cell,
ABC,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Chris Corsano,
Sällskapet,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Electric Prunes,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Grauzone,
Eve St. Jones,
Little Man,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Minor Threat,
The Evens,
Danielle Patucci,
Livin' Joy,
U.S. Maple,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Seeds,
Smog,
The Fuzztones,
Soft Machine,
EPMD,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
E-Dancer,
Flipper,
Scion,
Rufus Thomas,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
10cc,
The Smoke,
Ronnie Foster,
Magma,
Susan Cadogan,
Josef K,
Gang of Four,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Cowsills,
Motorama,
Gil Scott Heron,
T. Rex,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Von Mondo,
The Red Krayola,
Q and Not U,
Banda Bassotti,
The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America.
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.