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 Libya and from Portland.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 the Fania All-Stars to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Ronan. All the underground hits.
All Cecil Taylor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skriet 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gladiators,
Bad Manners,
Rufus Thomas,
Gregory Isaacs,
X-102,
The Names,
Agitation Free,
Nas,
Boz Scaggs,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Real Kids,
Monks,
L. Decosne,
Trumans Water,
Whodini,
Animal Collective,
48th St. Collective,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Fortunes,
Lalann,
Kerri Chandler,
Smog,
The Angels of Light,
Unwound,
Juan Atkins,
Marvin Gaye,
Dead Boys,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Star Department,
The Last Poets,
Pantytec,
The Cowsills,
Public Enemy,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Little Man,
The Shadows of Knight,
T. Rex,
Joe Smooth,
Todd Terry,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Stetsasonic,
Tres Demented,
Cameo,
Henry Cow,
Barry Ungar,
The Smiths,
The Dead C,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Pussy Galore,
Pole,
The Mojo Men,
The Monks,
The Busters,
Public Image Ltd.,
Half Japanese,
The Invisible,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Tim Buckley,
Boredoms,
Los Fastidios,
In Retrospect,
Yusef Lateef,
The Mummies,
Zapp, Zapp, Zapp, Zapp.
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.