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 Malawi and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Slick Rick to the dance 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 Severed Heads. All the underground hits.
All Jerry's Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ornette Coleman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
Rekid,
The Cure,
The Techniques,
Nick Fraelich,
Soulsonic Force,
Scan 7,
The Searchers,
Oneida,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bauhaus,
Rufus Thomas,
Royal Trux,
The Raincoats,
Lou Reed,
The Wake,
Erasure,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Siglo XX,
Gong,
David McCallum,
the Fania All-Stars,
Mo-Dettes,
Vladislav Delay,
Dark Day,
Nik Kershaw,
JFA,
Stetsasonic,
EPMD,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Moss Icon,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Arab on Radar,
Accadde A,
Symarip,
Bronski Beat,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Basic Channel,
Roxy Music,
The Martian,
Frankie Knuckles,
Andrew Hill,
Livin' Joy,
The Barracudas,
Lindisfarne,
Zero Boys,
Jeff Lynne,
Outsiders,
Deepchord,
Severed Heads,
Peter & Gordon,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
AZ,
Blossom Toes,
Surgeon,
June Days,
Barry Ungar,
Jawbox,
Jesper Dahlback,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.