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 Mexico and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Groovy Waters to the grunge 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 Busters. All the underground hits.
All Selector Dub Narcotic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aswad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nation of Ulysses,
Wire,
Icehouse,
John Cale,
Bad Manners,
Rakim,
Kurtis Blow,
Y Pants,
Byron Stingily,
Easy Going,
Vladislav Delay,
Siglo XX,
Lightning Bolt,
Young Marble Giants,
The Black Dice,
Dead Boys,
Second Layer,
the Fania All-Stars,
Barry Ungar,
Gong,
Soft Machine,
Boredoms,
Dual Sessions,
Neil Young,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Procol Harum,
Iggy Pop,
The Five Americans,
Fatback Band,
Todd Terry,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Freddie Wadling,
The Fall,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Gories,
The Young Rascals,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Black Flag,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Organ,
the Swans,
The Moleskins,
Pole,
Quando Quango,
Eddi Front,
Cymande,
Sound Behaviour,
Isaac Hayes,
Crispian St. Peters,
Television,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gang Gang Dance,
Rosa Yemen,
Agent Orange,
Kerrie Biddell,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Index,
Franke,
The Durutti Column,
Jeru the Damaja,
ABC,
Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd.
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.