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 United States and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 snare 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 Reuben Wilson to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Marmalade. All the underground hits.
All Mission of Burma 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 crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lindisfarne,
Dead Boys,
Con Funk Shun,
Aswad,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Amon Düül,
B.T. Express,
Kayak,
the Germs,
Main Source,
Tubeway Army,
Traffic Nightmare,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Shuggie Otis,
Piero Umiliani,
Make Up,
H. Thieme,
Kenny Larkin,
Gang Gang Dance,
Basic Channel,
Marc Almond,
The Velvet Underground,
The Selecter,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Modern Lovers,
Angry Samoans,
The Raincoats,
June Days,
Fela Kuti,
Pet Shop Boys,
Arthur Verocai,
Soul Sonic Force,
T.S.O.L.,
Todd Terry,
Siglo XX,
Symarip,
Kurtis Blow,
Rotary Connection,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Public Enemy,
Tommy Roe,
The Beau Brummels,
Leonard Cohen,
The Wake,
Accadde A,
The Smiths,
Bob Dylan,
the Soft Cell,
Black Sheep,
Erasure,
Rapeman,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Smog,
Hot Snakes,
Thee Headcoats,
The Divine Comedy,
Yellowson,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Minutemen,
David McCallum,
Los Fastidios,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.