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 Ireland and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Boogie Down Productions to the dance 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 Rhythim Is Rhythim. All the underground hits.
All Eyeless In Gaza tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brand Nubian 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a PIL record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alice Coltrane,
DJ Style,
Hot Snakes,
The Cowsills,
Brothers Johnson,
8 Eyed Spy,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Make Up,
Symarip,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Wake,
Soulsonic Force,
Funky Four + One,
Erasure,
Lindisfarne,
the Fania All-Stars,
Connie Case,
A Certain Ratio,
Mo-Dettes,
Minnie Riperton,
Erykah Badu,
Prince Buster,
Popol Vuh,
The Fuzztones,
Bob Dylan,
Spoonie Gee,
H. Thieme,
Crime,
The Neon Judgement,
Hardrive,
Lucky Dragons,
Cymande,
The Offenders,
The Smoke,
Pet Shop Boys,
Gang Starr,
Anakelly,
Boz Scaggs,
Bauhaus,
Sister Nancy,
Patti Smith,
The United States of America,
Dave Gahan,
Pagans,
Dual Sessions,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Junior Murvin,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Iggy Pop,
Outsiders,
Sparks,
Derrick May,
Johnny Osbourne,
Terrestrial Tones,
Arcadia,
T.S.O.L.,
Zero Boys,
Can,
F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald.
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.