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 Romania 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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Little Man. All the underground hits.
All Crime tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Josef K record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
Whodini,
Dennis Brown,
Marcia Griffiths,
Susan Cadogan,
Echospace,
the Fania All-Stars,
JFA,
MDC,
The Slackers,
Cymande,
Popol Vuh,
One Last Wish,
Sight & Sound,
Charles Mingus,
Aswad,
Eric Dolphy,
Television,
Quantec,
New York Dolls,
Sonny Sharrock,
Gang Starr,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Smog,
X-102,
B.T. Express,
The Misunderstood,
Kerri Chandler,
Cybotron,
The Saints,
Kenny Larkin,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gichy Dan,
48th St. Collective,
Scratch Acid,
Con Funk Shun,
Mark Hollis,
Mandrill,
Swans,
Ituana,
Ponytail,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Move,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Harmonia,
Wire,
Zero Boys,
Minny Pops,
Chris & Cosey,
The Cramps,
Harry Pussy,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Bronski Beat,
Los Fastidios,
Yazoo,
Procol Harum,
Ken Boothe,
Mad Mike,
Rakim,
The Raincoats,
Khruangbin,
Sister Nancy,
Schoolly D,
Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers.
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.