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 Bhutan and from Philadelphia.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 güiro 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 Golliwogs to the crunk 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 Kayak. All the underground hits.
All the Bar-Kays tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Last Poets record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Massinfluence,
Scion,
The Skatalites,
David McCallum,
The Residents,
Tropical Tobacco,
Cecil Taylor,
Metal Thangz,
Pharoah Sanders,
Crooked Eye,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Saints,
Nirvana,
Glenn Branca,
Pulsallama,
Stiv Bators,
DNA,
Little Man,
Symarip,
DJ Style,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ultravox,
Lou Christie,
8 Eyed Spy,
Suburban Knight,
Bauhaus,
Peter & Gordon,
The Human League,
Harry Pussy,
Nik Kershaw,
Faust,
Nico,
Ten City,
The Remains,
Bobby Womack,
Unwound,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Sonics,
Donny Hathaway,
Mr. Review,
Swans,
The Happenings,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Johnny Osbourne,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Rakim,
Fluxion,
The Neon Judgement,
Echospace,
Sex Pistols,
Freddie Wadling,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ludus,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
the Swans,
The Dirtbombs,
X-102,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
X-101,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio.
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.