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 Kuwait and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Mexico City.
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 snare 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 Lightning Bolt to the funk 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 Blossom Toes. All the underground hits.
All Radiohead tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The J.B.'s record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rapeman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pagans,
The Mummies,
The Real Kids,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bizarre Inc.,
Second Layer,
Country Joe & The Fish,
David McCallum,
Au Pairs,
Donald Byrd,
Make Up,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Fatback Band,
Skriet,
Joensuu 1685,
Harmonia,
The Happenings,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Matthew Bourne,
The Residents,
Grey Daturas,
Minutemen,
Junior Murvin,
Guru Guru,
Sexual Harrassment,
Fear,
Peter & Gordon,
Zero Boys,
Marc Almond,
Livin' Joy,
A Certain Ratio,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Velvet Underground,
Scion,
The Dave Clark Five,
Maleditus Sound,
Freddie Wadling,
Soulsonic Force,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Lalann,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Animal Collective,
Rosa Yemen,
Andrew Hill,
Lower 48,
Pet Shop Boys,
KRS-One,
Television Personalities,
Fela Kuti,
New Order,
Ken Boothe,
Gang of Four,
Lou Christie,
Johnny Clarke,
Isaac Hayes,
Tim Buckley,
Sixth Finger,
the Soft Cell,
Sister Nancy,
Stereo Dub,
Mo-Dettes,
H. Thieme,
Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty.
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.