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 Barbados and from Halifax.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Germs 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 The Fuzztones. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Selecter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Royal Family And The Poor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
EPMD,
Brick,
John Foxx,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Black Moon,
Bill Near,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
LL Cool J,
Alphaville,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Velvet Underground,
Hot Snakes,
Sun City Girls,
Godley & Creme,
The Red Krayola,
Black Pus,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Quando Quango,
The Sound,
Terry Callier,
Nils Olav,
Swell Maps,
Pantytec,
Lou Reed,
Heaven 17,
Cybotron,
Cameo,
Negative Approach,
Jesper Dahlback,
Rites of Spring,
Eric B and Rakim,
Cluster,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Erykah Badu,
Amon Düül,
The Shadows of Knight,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Cheater Slicks,
Marshall Jefferson,
Barrington Levy,
Girls At Our Best!,
Pere Ubu,
Fatback Band,
Kaleidoscope,
Flipper,
Boz Scaggs,
Ronnie Foster,
Schoolly D,
Lyres,
Stiv Bators,
The Real Kids,
Drexciya,
FM Einheit,
Josef K,
Rhythm & Sound,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Janne Schatter,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Sonics,
Dark Day,
Malaria!,
Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon.
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.