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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 marimba 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 Yaz to the grime 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 The Dead C. All the underground hits.
All the Bar-Kays tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Selecter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nils Olav record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swell Maps,
Don Cherry,
Jacques Brel,
Connie Case,
Radiopuhelimet,
Cheater Slicks,
Bill Wells,
Boz Scaggs,
The Doors,
Andrew Hill,
Glambeats Corp.,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Count Five,
The Cramps,
Bush Tetras,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Happenings,
Skriet,
D'Angelo,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Aaron Thompson,
Monks,
Flipper,
Vladislav Delay,
Scan 7,
Sight & Sound,
The Angels of Light,
The Skatalites,
Todd Rundgren,
Ohio Players,
Television Personalities,
Parry Music,
Sixth Finger,
the Normal,
Severed Heads,
Soul II Soul,
Half Japanese,
Robert Hood,
The Sound,
David McCallum,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Birthday Party,
The Trojans,
Donald Byrd,
Ludus,
Fear,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
LL Cool J,
John Foxx,
Barbara Tucker,
Isaac Hayes,
T. Rex,
Gerry Rafferty,
Scott Walker,
Oneida,
the Association,
Con Funk Shun,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The American Breed,
Excepter, Excepter, Excepter, Excepter.
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.