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 Chad and from Delhi.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the organ 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 Guru Guru to the funk 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 Black Moon. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Average White Band 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stiv Bators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Trojans,
Carl Craig,
Dead Boys,
Pussy Galore,
Kerri Chandler,
Roxette,
Echospace,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Soft Machine,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Bad Manners,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Doobie Brothers,
CMW,
Frankie Knuckles,
Qualms,
KRS-One,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lower 48,
Banda Bassotti,
The American Breed,
Model 500,
The Standells,
Henry Cow,
Al Stewart,
Scrapy,
Pantaleimon,
the Slits,
Stetsasonic,
New Age Steppers,
John Cale,
Sonic Youth,
Dorothy Ashby,
Kenny Larkin,
Connie Case,
Popol Vuh,
Tommy Roe,
These Immortal Souls,
Sun Ra,
Blossom Toes,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Yusef Lateef,
Crime,
Deadbeat,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Rhythm & Sound,
Spoonie Gee,
Howard Jones,
Amazonics,
Slick Rick,
Lou Reed,
Reagan Youth,
Skarface,
Patti Smith,
Underground Resistance,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Todd Terry,
Marvin Gaye,
Tim Buckley,
D'Angelo,
Television Personalities,
Khruangbin,
U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple.
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.