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 Denmark and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 clarinet 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 Monks to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All Pulsallama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers Ubiquity record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New Order,
Y Pants,
Cymande,
Make Up,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Skriet,
Slick Rick,
Andrew Hill,
Jeff Lynne,
The Associates,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Kurtis Blow,
Ornette Coleman,
Grandmaster Flash,
Jeru the Damaja,
Joe Finger,
Thompson Twins,
Bad Manners,
Pere Ubu,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
8 Eyed Spy,
Rekid,
the Soft Cell,
Absolute Body Control,
Erykah Badu,
John Cale,
DJ Style,
Youth Brigade,
Public Enemy,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bob Dylan,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Intrusion,
Bootsy Collins,
Neu!,
The Slackers,
The Victims,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Tropical Tobacco,
Joey Negro,
The Dirtbombs,
Rites of Spring,
The Last Poets,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Groovy Waters,
Skaos,
Pierre Henry,
Aswad,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Urselle,
Sun Ra,
Sister Nancy,
Accadde A,
Hoover,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Aaron Thompson,
Nirvana,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Harry Pussy,
Excepter,
Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt.
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.