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 Cameroon and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 clarinet 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All Pantaleimon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Iggy Pop 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marshall Jefferson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fugazi,
Thee Headcoats,
JFA,
Bobby Byrd,
Whodini,
David Bowie,
Sandy B,
Maurizio,
Jawbox,
The Cowsills,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Steve Hackett,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Boz Scaggs,
Unrelated Segments,
Cheater Slicks,
Spoonie Gee,
Y Pants,
The Walker Brothers,
Urselle,
Crime,
Yaz,
The Alarm Clocks,
David McCallum,
The Cramps,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Scrapy,
The Detroit Cobras,
Mars,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Moebius,
Oneida,
Basic Channel,
PIL,
Pantaleimon,
Black Pus,
Cecil Taylor,
Dennis Brown,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Glenn Branca,
Max Romeo,
Danielle Patucci,
Flamin' Groovies,
Lyres,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Selecter,
Depeche Mode,
Country Teasers,
Stereo Dub,
Ice-T,
Eric Copeland,
Motorama,
Pantytec,
The Beau Brummels,
New Age Steppers,
the Human League,
Second Layer,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
CMW,
Absolute Body Control,
X-Ray Spex,
Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy.
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.