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 Jamaica and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Holger Czukay 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 Shoche to the grime 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 Susan Cadogan. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Move record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nation of Ulysses,
Bobby Womack,
F. McDonald,
L. Decosne,
Tropical Tobacco,
Unwound,
Ronan,
Radiopuhelimet,
Deakin,
Sister Nancy,
Rotary Connection,
FM Einheit,
Rekid,
Gong,
Second Layer,
Leonard Cohen,
Sun Ra,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Buzzcocks,
La Düsseldorf,
The Index,
Mandrill,
Glenn Branca,
June Days,
Skarface,
Michelle Simonal,
B.T. Express,
Bob Dylan,
Stetsasonic,
Barbara Tucker,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Nirvana,
PIL,
The Dead C,
The Techniques,
Camberwell Now,
The Evens,
The Associates,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Peter and Kerry,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
LL Cool J,
The Walker Brothers,
Khruangbin,
Spandau Ballet,
Easy Going,
Public Image Ltd.,
Kerri Chandler,
Flamin' Groovies,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Thee Headcoats,
Matthew Halsall,
Basic Channel,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Zeros,
The Gories,
U.S. Maple,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
D'Angelo, D'Angelo, D'Angelo, D'Angelo.
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.