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 Iraq and from Milan.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Isaac Hayes to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Litter. All the underground hits.
All The Moody Blues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Malaria! 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cymande record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Near,
Jesper Dahlback,
Metal Thangz,
Urselle,
Audionom,
Fugazi,
Eurythmics,
Davy DMX,
John Lydon,
Pulsallama,
Grandmaster Flash,
Drexciya,
Johnny Osbourne,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Marmalade,
The Standells,
Au Pairs,
Thee Headcoats,
Aswad,
Liliput,
The Stooges,
Mantronix,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sex Pistols,
Unrelated Segments,
Rites of Spring,
Carl Craig,
Outsiders,
Jimmy McGriff,
Peter and Kerry,
Yellowson,
Mo-Dettes,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Tears for Fears,
UT,
Derrick Morgan,
Howard Jones,
Das Ding,
T.S.O.L.,
Can,
Model 500,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Joe Finger,
Lower 48,
Eric Dolphy,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kayak,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Wake,
LL Cool J,
Bob Dylan,
Sight & Sound,
Crispy Ambulance,
Surgeon,
Piero Umiliani,
the Fania All-Stars,
New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers.
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.