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 Bangladesh and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Iggy Pop to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Lalann. All the underground hits.
All Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Kinks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barrington Levy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Big Daddy Kane,
Circle Jerks,
Derrick May,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Tom Boy,
June Days,
Bill Near,
John Lydon,
Clear Light,
Jesper Dahlback,
L. Decosne,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Marvin Gaye,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sun Ra,
Junior Murvin,
Jeff Lynne,
The Raincoats,
the Soft Cell,
Amazonics,
The Seeds,
Malaria!,
Vainqueur,
Thompson Twins,
The Leaves,
Hot Snakes,
Kerri Chandler,
Eve St. Jones,
Matthew Bourne,
Joe Smooth,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Residents,
The Wake,
Minnie Riperton,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lebanon Hanover,
Index,
Main Source,
Delta 5,
Lou Christie,
Television,
The Black Dice,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ponytail,
Wasted Youth,
Fad Gadget,
Jandek,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Gang Starr,
Althea and Donna,
Isaac Hayes,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Danielle Patucci,
Slave,
Gang Green,
Barclay James Harvest,
Brothers Johnson,
Grandmaster Flash,
Glenn Branca,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.