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 Rwanda and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Black Sheep to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Skaos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Outsiders 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Machine,
James White and The Blacks,
Underground Resistance,
AZ,
Sugar Minott,
Maurizio,
The Real Kids,
The Mojo Men,
Sun City Girls,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Index,
Subhumans,
The Blackbyrds,
Theoretical Girls,
Danielle Patucci,
Lower 48,
The Fuzztones,
Bob Dylan,
Robert Wyatt,
Fugazi,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Durutti Column,
Deakin,
Althea and Donna,
Junior Murvin,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Cowsills,
Rosa Yemen,
The Trojans,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Seeds,
Stockholm Monsters,
48th St. Collective,
Lee Hazlewood,
Oneida,
The Blues Magoos,
Susan Cadogan,
Leonard Cohen,
A Certain Ratio,
Adolescents,
The Remains,
Yazoo,
Ponytail,
Youth Brigade,
Massinfluence,
Gichy Dan,
Godley & Creme,
Slave,
Ronnie Foster,
Ultra Naté,
Sällskapet,
The Kinks,
Gang Green,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Five Americans,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lou Reed,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Thee Headcoats,
Ultravox,
Donald Byrd,
Ituana,
Rakim, Rakim, Rakim, Rakim.
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.