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 Macedonia and from Spokane.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the 808 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 Soulsonic Force to the grime 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 Siglo XX. All the underground hits.
All A Certain Ratio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Von Mondo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Golliwogs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
Pussy Galore,
Shuggie Otis,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Fatback Band,
Patti Smith,
Lindisfarne,
Rod Modell,
Warsaw,
The Flesh Eaters,
Jawbox,
Swell Maps,
Rekid,
Eddi Front,
Fat Boys,
Jeff Lynne,
London Community Gospel Choir,
ABBA,
The Wake,
Easy Going,
Hardrive,
The Move,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Unwound,
Qualms,
The Star Department,
The Alarm Clocks,
Dawn Penn,
Kerri Chandler,
Terry Callier,
Gang Gang Dance,
Blake Baxter,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
H. Thieme,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Derrick Morgan,
Nik Kershaw,
Sällskapet,
Reagan Youth,
Frankie Knuckles,
Popol Vuh,
Grauzone,
Adolescents,
Chris Corsano,
Yellowson,
Bizarre Inc.,
Kool Moe Dee,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Saccharine Trust,
Newcleus,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Litter,
Sexual Harrassment,
Severed Heads,
Chrome,
June Days,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Howard Jones,
Television, Television, Television, Television.
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.