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 Spain and from Portland.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Fela Kuti to the disco 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 Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Kevin Saunderson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Livin' Joy 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ten City,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Neu!,
Carl Craig,
Derrick Morgan,
Kerrie Biddell,
Pole,
Metal Thangz,
The Red Krayola,
Deakin,
The Cowsills,
The Dirtbombs,
Rites of Spring,
Chris Corsano,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Main Source,
Zapp,
Cameo,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Thee Headcoats,
Scrapy,
June Days,
Skriet,
Leonard Cohen,
Junior Murvin,
Eli Mardock,
Yaz,
The Litter,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Eddi Front,
Nick Fraelich,
The Young Rascals,
Albert Ayler,
X-Ray Spex,
Ituana,
The Buckinghams,
Skaos,
Minutemen,
Freddie Wadling,
The Walker Brothers,
Sun City Girls,
Pantytec,
Nico,
Wasted Youth,
The Searchers,
The Mojo Men,
FM Einheit,
LL Cool J,
Moss Icon,
The Modern Lovers,
Depeche Mode,
The Gap Band,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Hardrive,
Rakim,
Thompson Twins,
Robert Görl,
Gang of Four,
Susan Cadogan,
Porter Ricks,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Happenings,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets.
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.