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 Morocco 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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 sitar 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Pagans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Prunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Prince Buster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Iggy Pop,
Roxy Music,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
48th St. Collective,
Anthony Braxton,
Blancmange,
Quadrant,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Jawbox,
John Coltrane,
Yusef Lateef,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Rhythm & Sound,
Adolescents,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Eric Copeland,
Absolute Body Control,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Isaac Hayes,
Con Funk Shun,
The Gun Club,
Charles Mingus,
Pole,
Eli Mardock,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
New York Dolls,
Black Moon,
Royal Trux,
Interpol,
Deepchord,
New Age Steppers,
Kerrie Biddell,
Flipper,
Crime,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Names,
Underground Resistance,
The Skatalites,
Robert Görl,
Von Mondo,
Babytalk,
Marmalade,
Robert Wyatt,
The Wake,
Susan Cadogan,
The Cowsills,
Erasure,
The Slackers,
Eddi Front,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Tom Boy,
The Cramps,
Kevin Saunderson,
Masters at Work,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Gang Gang Dance,
Nils Olav,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.