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 Seychelles and from Paris.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Delhi.
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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Associates to the crunk 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 Dorothy Ashby. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Halsall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry Gold Smith 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Carl Craig,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bill Near,
Amon Düül II,
The Slits,
Amazonics,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lindisfarne,
Eden Ahbez,
Ohio Players,
Jawbox,
Gabor Szabo,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Visage,
Iggy Pop,
The Cure,
Pantaleimon,
John Holt,
The Sound,
Brand Nubian,
L. Decosne,
JFA,
Average White Band,
Fatback Band,
MDC,
Bill Wells,
Skriet,
Swans,
Negative Approach,
Tropical Tobacco,
Tears for Fears,
Niagra,
The Move,
Junior Murvin,
Soul II Soul,
Tommy Roe,
Delon & Dalcan,
Erykah Badu,
Scion,
Audionom,
Mary Jane Girls,
LL Cool J,
Howard Jones,
Thompson Twins,
Heaven 17,
Dual Sessions,
The Birthday Party,
Pole,
Inner City,
Jeru the Damaja,
Glambeats Corp.,
Malaria!,
Cameo,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Radio Birdman,
The Buckinghams,
Circle Jerks,
A Certain Ratio,
Barrington Levy,
Bobby Womack,
the Normal, the Normal, the Normal, the Normal.
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.