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 Poland and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Move to the disco 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 Alton Ellis. All the underground hits.
All Lafayette Afro Rock Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boogie Down Productions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang of Four record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Names,
Cheater Slicks,
Cameo,
Black Pus,
E-Dancer,
Hardrive,
Blancmange,
Neu!,
U.S. Maple,
The Beau Brummels,
Intrusion,
Pantaleimon,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Eurythmics,
Y Pants,
kango's stein massive,
T. Rex,
Kurtis Blow,
UT,
Harry Pussy,
The New Christs,
Zero Boys,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Dirtbombs,
Rites of Spring,
Delta 5,
Model 500,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Pretty Things,
Harpers Bizarre,
Boredoms,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Ice-T,
Arcadia,
Darondo,
The Associates,
Arab on Radar,
Brand Nubian,
Soulsonic Force,
The Happenings,
Shoche,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Slackers,
Man Eating Sloth,
Hashim,
The Mummies,
Curtis Mayfield,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ornette Coleman,
Bill Near,
Zapp,
Judy Mowatt,
Rosa Yemen,
Janne Schatter,
Ultra Naté,
John Holt,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
cv313,
The Vogues,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Gories, The Gories, The Gories, The Gories.
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.