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 St Lucia and from Houston.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Oneida to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Gian Franco Pienzio. All the underground hits.
All Faraquet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every MDC 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bob Dylan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Crash Course in Science,
Los Fastidios,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sparks,
Public Image Ltd.,
Gang of Four,
Pierre Henry,
Tres Demented,
Saccharine Trust,
Flipper,
Skriet,
David Bowie,
Erykah Badu,
the Bar-Kays,
Groovy Waters,
Subhumans,
The Music Machine,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Silicon Teens,
Yusef Lateef,
The Blackbyrds,
Kevin Saunderson,
Rakim,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
E-Dancer,
Sugar Minott,
The Black Dice,
The Fortunes,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Underground Resistance,
B.T. Express,
Lou Reed,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Whodini,
Cluster,
Kayak,
Pulsallama,
Babytalk,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Joensuu 1685,
Electric Prunes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Quadrant,
Amon Düül,
The Sonics,
Hashim,
Jeru the Damaja,
Hoover,
Howard Jones,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ludus,
Quantec,
Blancmange,
Pussy Galore,
Carl Craig,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Jerry Gold Smith,
ABC,
Peter and Kerry,
Marvin Gaye,
Wings,
The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths.
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.