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 Uganda and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 the Sonics to the techno 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 Charles Mingus. All the underground hits.
All LL Cool J tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joe Smooth,
Groovy Waters,
Loose Ends,
Liliput,
Rotary Connection,
Drive Like Jehu,
Organ,
Talk Talk,
Banda Bassotti,
Cal Tjader,
The Barracudas,
Spoonie Gee,
Faust,
Gang Green,
Bush Tetras,
Marc Almond,
The Selecter,
Inner City,
Fatback Band,
Index,
Dual Sessions,
The Raincoats,
Nils Olav,
Pussy Galore,
June Days,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Doors,
Accadde A,
Kool Moe Dee,
FM Einheit,
Bobby Byrd,
Robert Hood,
Pylon,
Magma,
Jimmy McGriff,
Kurtis Blow,
Outsiders,
Motorama,
The Remains,
Sugar Minott,
The Five Americans,
Tim Buckley,
The Fugs,
Harmonia,
Sound Behaviour,
These Immortal Souls,
Intrusion,
Brothers Johnson,
Rapeman,
John Foxx,
E-Dancer,
Todd Rundgren,
Althea and Donna,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Standells,
the Fania All-Stars,
L. Decosne,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Dirtbombs,
The Pretty Things,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Au Pairs,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.