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 Iceland and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Edmonton.
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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Sly & The Family Stone to the electroclash 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 Harmonia. All the underground hits.
All The New Christs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sixth Finger record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sonny Sharrock,
Sexual Harrassment,
Harry Pussy,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Bill Wells,
Essential Logic,
Bobby Sherman,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Sound,
UT,
Crime,
Funky Four + One,
Eddi Front,
Pere Ubu,
The Divine Comedy,
Ohio Players,
Sun Ra,
T. Rex,
Jacques Brel,
Audionom,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Mark Hollis,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Grey Daturas,
Black Flag,
Bob Dylan,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
D'Angelo,
The Gories,
This Heat,
The Move,
Drexciya,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Flipper,
The Wake,
Kaleidoscope,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Beau Brummels,
Basic Channel,
Barbara Tucker,
The Electric Prunes,
Lou Reed,
LL Cool J,
These Immortal Souls,
Leonard Cohen,
Stiv Bators,
The Misunderstood,
The Smoke,
The Pop Group,
Cabaret Voltaire,
David Axelrod,
One Last Wish,
Scientists,
Wasted Youth,
Stereo Dub,
Aloha Tigers,
Theoretical Girls,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Crispy Ambulance,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Danielle Patucci,
The Shadows of Knight,
Smog,
Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms.
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.