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 Turkmenistan and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 B.T. Express to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anthony Braxton 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fela Kuti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moleskins,
Talk Talk,
The Knickerbockers,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Doobie Brothers,
Mr. Review,
Interpol,
Susan Cadogan,
ABC,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ice-T,
Bad Manners,
Young Marble Giants,
Flash Fearless,
Barrington Levy,
The Stooges,
Lower 48,
Colin Newman,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Brand Nubian,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Echospace,
Spandau Ballet,
The Zeros,
Supertramp,
Scratch Acid,
Max Romeo,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Tres Demented,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Robert Hood,
Marvin Gaye,
Gang Green,
Howard Jones,
John Holt,
New Age Steppers,
OOIOO,
Blake Baxter,
Cameo,
Bob Dylan,
Sarah Menescal,
Au Pairs,
U.S. Maple,
MDC,
Arcadia,
Graham Central Station,
Gong,
Dorothy Ashby,
Make Up,
Rites of Spring,
Motorama,
The Barracudas,
Trumans Water,
The Misunderstood,
T.S.O.L.,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Kerrie Biddell,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol.
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.