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 Lithuania and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in 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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lyon.
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 rhodes 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 Busters to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Curtis Mayfield. All the underground hits.
All The Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonic Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobbi Humphrey,
Con Funk Shun,
New Age Steppers,
kango's stein massive,
Shuggie Otis,
Guru Guru,
Boz Scaggs,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Toasters,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Blues Magoos,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Wake,
Stereo Dub,
Icehouse,
The Martian,
Archie Shepp,
Ornette Coleman,
B.T. Express,
The Gladiators,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Chris Corsano,
Model 500,
Barbara Tucker,
The Fortunes,
Cheater Slicks,
Gang of Four,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Deakin,
Bush Tetras,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Modern Lovers,
Roy Ayers,
The Litter,
Mandrill,
The Evens,
Sound Behaviour,
Groovy Waters,
Mark Hollis,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Names,
Susan Cadogan,
Camouflage,
Man Parrish,
Unrelated Segments,
Eric Dolphy,
Electric Prunes,
The United States of America,
Maleditus Sound,
Q and Not U,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Schoolly D,
Suicide,
The Moody Blues,
The Mojo Men,
Sparks,
The Alarm Clocks,
Animal Collective,
Interpol,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Maurizio,
Tubeway Army,
Crispian St. Peters,
Masters at Work,
Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane.
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.