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 Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Al Stewart. All the underground hits.
All Curtis Mayfield tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yaz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sam Rivers,
Charles Mingus,
Nirvana,
Bobby Womack,
Black Flag,
Bang On A Can,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Cluster,
Lindisfarne,
Roger Hodgson,
Q and Not U,
Lucky Dragons,
Harry Pussy,
Johnny Osbourne,
Isaac Hayes,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Monks,
Johnny Clarke,
Theoretical Girls,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Tubeway Army,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Crash Course in Science,
Big Daddy Kane,
Eurythmics,
Duran Duran,
Adolescents,
Radiopuhelimet,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Ultravox,
Mark Hollis,
Con Funk Shun,
Pharoah Sanders,
Suburban Knight,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Urselle,
Pylon,
Matthew Bourne,
Public Enemy,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Joey Negro,
World's Most,
EPMD,
Janne Schatter,
cv313,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Marine Girls,
Cameo,
Wally Richardson,
Davy DMX,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Gap Band,
Jeff Mills,
T.S.O.L.,
The Moody Blues,
The Seeds,
Thee Headcoats,
Iggy Pop,
Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim.
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.