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 Somalia and from Jakarta.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Byron Stingily to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Ajijia Myrayebe. All the underground hits.
All Leonard Cohen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spandau Ballet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gregory Isaacs,
Malaria!,
Chris Corsano,
Minnie Riperton,
Stetsasonic,
Index,
One Last Wish,
Harry Pussy,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Mo-Dettes,
Swell Maps,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Bill Wells,
Minor Threat,
The Sound,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Outsiders,
Massinfluence,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lyres,
Alice Coltrane,
Darondo,
Crime,
Sight & Sound,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
the Slits,
Barbara Tucker,
Ohio Players,
Tommy Roe,
Byron Stingily,
Donald Byrd,
The Walker Brothers,
Make Up,
Marc Almond,
Ultra Naté,
Lou Reed,
Susan Cadogan,
Howard Jones,
Panda Bear,
Prince Buster,
Scratch Acid,
Quadrant,
Pole,
Big Daddy Kane,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Smog,
The Young Rascals,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Siglo XX,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Symarip,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Monochrome Set,
Glambeats Corp.,
DJ Sneak,
Mars,
Fela Kuti,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Cramps,
The Doobie Brothers,
Rites of Spring,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.