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 Jamaica and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Calgary.
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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Index to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Moleskins. All the underground hits.
All The Cosmic Jokers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Beasts of Bourbon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alice Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Model 500,
Agitation Free,
Tim Buckley,
The Cure,
The Pop Group,
Sexual Harrassment,
Marine Girls,
Robert Hood,
Bobby Byrd,
U.S. Maple,
Scan 7,
Smog,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Marshall Jefferson,
Nation of Ulysses,
Fatback Band,
Subhumans,
Unwound,
Toni Rubio,
Black Moon,
Moebius,
Agent Orange,
cv313,
The Sound,
Chris Corsano,
Darondo,
Isaac Hayes,
F. McDonald,
Mad Mike,
Kool Moe Dee,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Camberwell Now,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
A Certain Ratio,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Laurel Aitken,
The Motions,
Throbbing Gristle,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Main Source,
Eve St. Jones,
The Shadows of Knight,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Sun Ra,
Bobby Womack,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Spoonie Gee,
Minutemen,
Radio Birdman,
Sonny Sharrock,
Index,
Pet Shop Boys,
Groovy Waters,
The Dave Clark Five,
Japan,
Clear Light,
10cc,
Mo-Dettes,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.