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 El Salvador and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Michael McDonald 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 Gerry Rafferty to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Cybotron. All the underground hits.
All Aaron Thompson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth 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 a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Angels of Light,
Scientists,
Alton Ellis,
Franke,
Susan Cadogan,
Section 25,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Matthew Halsall,
Deakin,
Johnny Osbourne,
Jeff Mills,
Bad Manners,
Al Stewart,
Japan,
Marshall Jefferson,
Mad Mike,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
A Certain Ratio,
The Divine Comedy,
The Wake,
Quantec,
Sandy B,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Underground Resistance,
Brothers Johnson,
the Human League,
Warsaw,
Slick Rick,
Crispy Ambulance,
Neil Young,
Gong,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Kinks,
Magma,
Swell Maps,
Youth Brigade,
Sonic Youth,
Lalann,
Marc Almond,
Essential Logic,
Nils Olav,
The Zeros,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Black Pus,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Gang Gang Dance,
Aaron Thompson,
JFA,
In Retrospect,
Gil Scott Heron,
B.T. Express,
The Seeds,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Agent Orange,
The Cowsills,
Public Enemy,
Ten City,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Leaves,
a-ha,
Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren.
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.