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 Ethiopia and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Scion to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Vaughan Mason & Crew. All the underground hits.
All Red Lorry Yellow Lorry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crime record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Iggy Pop record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
PIL,
Eric Copeland,
Talk Talk,
The Flesh Eaters,
Barclay James Harvest,
DNA,
Derrick May,
New Age Steppers,
The Gories,
a-ha,
X-102,
Crispian St. Peters,
Alice Coltrane,
Desert Stars,
Jeff Mills,
Yaz,
Marmalade,
Tropical Tobacco,
Circle Jerks,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Joy Division,
Chris & Cosey,
Ossler,
Shuggie Otis,
Lungfish,
Deadbeat,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Harmonia,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Moebius,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Howard Jones,
Sex Pistols,
DJ Style,
Eden Ahbez,
Delta 5,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ice-T,
Suburban Knight,
Sly & The Family Stone,
China Crisis,
Graham Central Station,
Swans,
Soft Machine,
Absolute Body Control,
Second Layer,
Liliput,
Derrick Morgan,
Smog,
Q and Not U,
Eve St. Jones,
Jandek,
Cheater Slicks,
Bluetip,
Tres Demented,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Anakelly,
Hashim,
Robert Görl,
The Gladiators,
Harpers Bizarre,
Neu!, Neu!, Neu!, Neu!.
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.