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 Ghana and from Jakarta.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Robert Wyatt to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon. All the underground hits.
All Circle Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Durutti Column record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drexciya,
Bobby Womack,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Stiv Bators,
Rotary Connection,
Johnny Clarke,
Lyres,
Buzzcocks,
H. Thieme,
Iggy Pop,
Bobby Sherman,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Masters at Work,
The Fuzztones,
The Gun Club,
The Martian,
Albert Ayler,
John Coltrane,
Public Enemy,
Tubeway Army,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Fall,
Arcadia,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Grandmaster Flash,
The United States of America,
Bauhaus,
Moby Grape,
Alison Limerick,
Duran Duran,
The Motions,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sam Rivers,
Excepter,
Blancmange,
MC5,
La Düsseldorf,
The Sound,
Parry Music,
David Axelrod,
The Misunderstood,
Television Personalities,
Gregory Isaacs,
Lower 48,
Nas,
the Bar-Kays,
Wasted Youth,
The Durutti Column,
The Velvet Underground,
Little Man,
The Electric Prunes,
Yazoo,
Rhythm & Sound,
ABBA, ABBA, ABBA, ABBA.
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.