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 South Africa and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Taipei.
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 mellotron 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 Marine Girls to the crunk 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 Barrington Levy. All the underground hits.
All The Sisters of Mercy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Isaac Hayes 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kaleidoscope record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Tom Boy,
Letta Mbulu,
Livin' Joy,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ultravox,
Loose Ends,
The Alarm Clocks,
Swans,
Fat Boys,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Beau Brummels,
Bizarre Inc.,
Pole,
The Skatalites,
T. Rex,
Joyce Sims,
The Smoke,
Hot Snakes,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Japan,
Stetsasonic,
Marmalade,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Brothers Johnson,
R.M.O.,
The Tremeloes,
Girls At Our Best!,
Arthur Verocai,
T.S.O.L.,
Black Sheep,
Jandek,
B.T. Express,
Zapp,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Charles Mingus,
Aloha Tigers,
Flipper,
The Monks,
Severed Heads,
The Dirtbombs,
F. McDonald,
ABBA,
Janne Schatter,
Black Flag,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Pussy Galore,
Black Bananas,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Barracudas,
Alton Ellis,
Idris Muhammad,
Ohio Players,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bauhaus,
Absolute Body Control,
Model 500,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Star Department,
Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson.
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.