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 Korea South and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Evens to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Techniques. All the underground hits.
All The Searchers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Prince Buster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Girls At Our Best!,
Cal Tjader,
A Certain Ratio,
The United States of America,
Roxy Music,
Lindisfarne,
Pussy Galore,
Eric Dolphy,
Bobby Byrd,
B.T. Express,
Don Cherry,
Spandau Ballet,
Jesper Dahlback,
Gang Starr,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Johnny Osbourne,
Oneida,
Q65,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Moby Grape,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gregory Isaacs,
Suburban Knight,
Joe Finger,
Porter Ricks,
The Angels of Light,
Smog,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Peter & Gordon,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Associates,
Lou Christie,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Henry Cow,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Slick Rick,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Tomorrow,
Harmonia,
Unrelated Segments,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Hardrive,
Q and Not U,
MDC,
Eddi Front,
Excepter,
Blossom Toes,
Cybotron,
Byron Stingily,
Dorothy Ashby,
Black Flag,
The Fuzztones,
Jacob Miller,
the Association,
Gichy Dan,
Fela Kuti,
Sällskapet,
Camberwell Now,
Andrew Hill,
Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish.
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.