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 Kenya and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Sam Rivers to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Smog. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Das Ding record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a PIL record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barrington Levy,
Maleditus Sound,
Chrome,
Rod Modell,
L. Decosne,
Dennis Brown,
Scientists,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
X-102,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Johnny Clarke,
The Offenders,
Black Flag,
Brothers Johnson,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Camberwell Now,
The Mummies,
Grauzone,
the Human League,
Sarah Menescal,
Severed Heads,
Negative Approach,
Blake Baxter,
Nils Olav,
the Association,
Ituana,
Royal Trux,
The Kinks,
Nirvana,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Con Funk Shun,
Pylon,
Absolute Body Control,
Excepter,
MDC,
Groovy Waters,
Soft Machine,
Essential Logic,
Lightning Bolt,
Skriet,
Mandrill,
Arab on Radar,
The Monks,
Unrelated Segments,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Wasted Youth,
Dave Gahan,
10cc,
Can,
Ossler,
Soul Sonic Force,
Bobby Womack,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Busters,
Blossom Toes,
Tubeway Army,
The Victims,
Gil Scott Heron,
David McCallum,
Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin.
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.