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 Djibouti and from Houston.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk to the disco 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 Brand Nubian. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unrelated Segments record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
Thompson Twins,
EPMD,
Wally Richardson,
Don Cherry,
The Divine Comedy,
Scrapy,
D'Angelo,
Maleditus Sound,
New Age Steppers,
Minor Threat,
Gastr Del Sol,
Robert Görl,
Hardrive,
Cameo,
The Trojans,
Terrestrial Tones,
Max Romeo,
The Wake,
Minnie Riperton,
Lindisfarne,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pantaleimon,
Erykah Badu,
Henry Cow,
Arab on Radar,
DJ Style,
Dorothy Ashby,
Drexciya,
Rufus Thomas,
Harmonia,
Boredoms,
Essential Logic,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Happenings,
The J.B.'s,
Gregory Isaacs,
Oneida,
Big Daddy Kane,
Iggy Pop,
The Leaves,
Lalo Schifrin,
Quadrant,
David McCallum,
Warsaw,
Newcleus,
Au Pairs,
8 Eyed Spy,
Reuben Wilson,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Audionom,
Jacques Brel,
Infiniti,
Unwound,
Black Pus,
Boogie Down Productions,
LL Cool J,
Alice Coltrane,
Eli Mardock,
Sight & Sound,
Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell.
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.