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 Solomon Islands and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 Manchester and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 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 Rotary Connection to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Star Department. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sarah Menescal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lou Christie,
The Fugs,
Grandmaster Flash,
R.M.O.,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Residents,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bronski Beat,
The Slackers,
Arab on Radar,
Infiniti,
Soul II Soul,
Harmonia,
Scan 7,
Intrusion,
John Cale,
Sight & Sound,
Ultimate Spinach,
Marvin Gaye,
Slave,
Arthur Verocai,
Brand Nubian,
Metal Thangz,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Barry Ungar,
Aural Exciters,
Ossler,
Darondo,
the Association,
Sister Nancy,
Silicon Teens,
Pantaleimon,
Babytalk,
Mary Jane Girls,
Echospace,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Fear,
Bush Tetras,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bizarre Inc.,
Young Marble Giants,
the Human League,
Blossom Toes,
Amazonics,
Judy Mowatt,
Howard Jones,
Graham Central Station,
The Blues Magoos,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Wolf Eyes,
Pulsallama,
Tom Boy,
The Move,
Alphaville,
Brothers Johnson,
Joe Finger,
Letta Mbulu,
Funkadelic,
The Raincoats,
Eddi Front,
The Skatalites, The Skatalites, The Skatalites, The Skatalites.
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.