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 Gambia and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Soft Machine to the crunk 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 Mary Jane Girls. All the underground hits.
All Maurizio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magma 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mad Mike record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Vogues,
Malaria!,
Nick Fraelich,
Lucky Dragons,
The Misunderstood,
the Soft Cell,
The Grass Roots,
Sixth Finger,
X-101,
Mars,
Peter and Kerry,
Jesper Dahlback,
Urselle,
Soft Machine,
The Monks,
The Knickerbockers,
Dual Sessions,
Warsaw,
Underground Resistance,
Matthew Bourne,
Amazonics,
AZ,
UT,
Bootsy Collins,
The Dead C,
Stiv Bators,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Names,
the Bar-Kays,
8 Eyed Spy,
Essential Logic,
Pole,
Loose Ends,
Pulsallama,
The Shadows of Knight,
David Bowie,
Gang Gang Dance,
Hashim,
Cheater Slicks,
Lou Christie,
Jeff Mills,
DNA,
Cecil Taylor,
The Remains,
Eli Mardock,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Alison Limerick,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Crime,
Morten Harket,
Simply Red,
Kerri Chandler,
The Star Department,
Todd Rundgren,
The Detroit Cobras,
Massinfluence,
Siglo XX,
Bauhaus,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Eric B and Rakim,
Mission of Burma,
The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals.
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.