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 Benin and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Bootsy's Rubber Band to the funk 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 Cheater Slicks. All the underground hits.
All Stockholm Monsters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Main Source 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mad Mike,
the Slits,
Nirvana,
Shoche,
Con Funk Shun,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Zapp,
The Techniques,
The Saints,
Crime,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Eve St. Jones,
Don Cherry,
Reagan Youth,
Gichy Dan,
Heaven 17,
Symarip,
Aural Exciters,
Bob Dylan,
Skarface,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Josef K,
Alice Coltrane,
Harmonia,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Fugazi,
Roy Ayers,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Dirtbombs,
Television Personalities,
Monks,
The Pretty Things,
The Birthday Party,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bobby Sherman,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sparks,
Mo-Dettes,
Lucky Dragons,
Banda Bassotti,
Tom Boy,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Real Kids,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Seeds,
Mandrill,
The Monks,
Soulsonic Force,
Quantec,
H. Thieme,
Jeff Mills,
Kool Moe Dee,
Soft Cell,
Siglo XX,
Todd Rundgren,
Visage,
Negative Approach,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
DJ Style,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes, Justin Hinds & The Dominoes, Justin Hinds & The Dominoes, Justin Hinds & The Dominoes.
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.