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 Equatorial Guinea and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Aloha Tigers to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Mandrill. All the underground hits.
All John Foxx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blake Baxter,
The Litter,
Skriet,
Fifty Foot Hose,
June Days,
Scrapy,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Shoche,
John Holt,
Bobby Sherman,
Flipper,
The Five Americans,
Bootsy Collins,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bill Near,
Pharoah Sanders,
Harry Pussy,
Simply Red,
Arthur Verocai,
Ronnie Foster,
Faust,
The Selecter,
The Music Machine,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gang of Four,
Groovy Waters,
the Sonics,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Techniques,
The Standells,
U.S. Maple,
Gang Gang Dance,
Maleditus Sound,
EPMD,
Sonic Youth,
Minny Pops,
Interpol,
Underground Resistance,
KRS-One,
The Neon Judgement,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Blues Magoos,
Rufus Thomas,
Letta Mbulu,
Crooked Eye,
Warsaw,
Scion,
Nick Fraelich,
Joey Negro,
Kerri Chandler,
Bizarre Inc.,
Man Parrish,
Desert Stars,
Flash Fearless,
Lindisfarne,
Hashim,
Joy Division,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Alice Coltrane,
Urselle,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Subhumans,
Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5.
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.