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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Accra.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Thompson Twins to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Intrusion. All the underground hits.
All Schoolly D tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eddi Front record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drive Like Jehu,
Ice-T,
Heaven 17,
The Kinks,
The Smiths,
Rapeman,
Donald Byrd,
Nils Olav,
the Germs,
Max Romeo,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sun Ra,
Amon Düül,
Skaos,
Connie Case,
Andrew Hill,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Model 500,
Eric Dolphy,
The Saints,
Black Sheep,
Scott Walker,
Rakim,
Bill Wells,
X-101,
Unwound,
the Fania All-Stars,
Q and Not U,
Mark Hollis,
LL Cool J,
Easy Going,
Wally Richardson,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Blossom Toes,
The Gories,
Peter and Kerry,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Kaleidoscope,
Fela Kuti,
Pantaleimon,
Wasted Youth,
F. McDonald,
Man Parrish,
Bang On A Can,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
June Days,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bobby Byrd,
Surgeon,
Big Daddy Kane,
Maurizio,
Freddie Wadling,
The Walker Brothers,
The Trojans,
Saccharine Trust,
Deepchord,
Babytalk,
Pylon,
Theoretical Girls,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bill Near,
ABC,
Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya.
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.