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 Peru and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 808 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 Loose Ends to the electroclash 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 Derrick May. All the underground hits.
All Girls At Our Best! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New York Dolls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacob Miller,
Rites of Spring,
Bizarre Inc.,
Little Man,
The Young Rascals,
Fatback Band,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Joe Smooth,
Chrome,
The Doors,
Suicide,
Drexciya,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Young Marble Giants,
Spandau Ballet,
Underground Resistance,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Whodini,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Black Moon,
Tom Boy,
Hasil Adkins,
Fela Kuti,
ABC,
Dark Day,
The Techniques,
Goldenarms,
The New Christs,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Infiniti,
The Grass Roots,
FM Einheit,
Khruangbin,
Accadde A,
Gong,
Swell Maps,
F. McDonald,
Newcleus,
The Litter,
Bobby Byrd,
Barclay James Harvest,
Theoretical Girls,
Donny Hathaway,
Howard Jones,
Symarip,
World's Most,
Eve St. Jones,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Pylon,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Clear Light,
Saccharine Trust,
The Stooges,
China Crisis,
The Offenders,
The Red Krayola,
Cameo,
The J.B.'s,
L. Decosne,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Excepter,
The Index,
Angry Samoans,
Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles.
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.