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 Vanuatu and from Seoul.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Shanghai.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan to the rap 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 The Cowsills. All the underground hits.
All Quantec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Real Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bad Manners record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
Peter and Kerry,
Smog,
Eve St. Jones,
Todd Terry,
The Kinks,
L. Decosne,
The Associates,
The United States of America,
The Offenders,
Susan Cadogan,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Black Bananas,
Pharoah Sanders,
James White and The Blacks,
The Barracudas,
Nation of Ulysses,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Absolute Body Control,
Mo-Dettes,
Pagans,
The Mighty Diamonds,
U.S. Maple,
Marshall Jefferson,
June of 44,
Brass Construction,
Jerry's Kids,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Brick,
Silicon Teens,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Crispy Ambulance,
Schoolly D,
Gabor Szabo,
Lucky Dragons,
Urselle,
Reuben Wilson,
Jeff Mills,
Yazoo,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Reagan Youth,
X-102,
Rufus Thomas,
Flash Fearless,
Warren Ellis,
Simply Red,
Pussy Galore,
Popol Vuh,
Kevin Saunderson,
Fad Gadget,
The Count Five,
Black Sheep,
Lungfish,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Durutti Column,
The Alarm Clocks,
Dual Sessions,
The Star Department,
Fugazi,
Piero Umiliani,
Spandau Ballet,
Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight.
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.