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 Ecuador and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Mandrill to the crunk 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 Ice-T. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Idris Muhammad 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pulsallama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camberwell Now,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Maurizio,
Malaria!,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The J.B.'s,
Barry Ungar,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Music Machine,
Bobby Byrd,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
the Sonics,
The Gun Club,
Qualms,
Chrome,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pantytec,
Basic Channel,
Cheater Slicks,
Bronski Beat,
Sun City Girls,
Wally Richardson,
The Index,
Slick Rick,
The Alarm Clocks,
Inner City,
Erasure,
Blancmange,
The Busters,
the Soft Cell,
kango's stein massive,
The Doobie Brothers,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Black Dice,
The Selecter,
Suburban Knight,
Man Parrish,
Carl Craig,
Blake Baxter,
Tim Buckley,
Flash Fearless,
Delta 5,
Goldenarms,
Minny Pops,
Flipper,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Cecil Taylor,
Matthew Bourne,
Matthew Halsall,
Procol Harum,
The Red Krayola,
The United States of America,
Bad Manners,
Absolute Body Control,
Piero Umiliani,
Nation of Ulysses,
Traffic Nightmare,
Chris Corsano,
Judy Mowatt,
48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective.
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.