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 Netherlands and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Johnny Clarke to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo. All the underground hits.
All Pantaleimon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mark Hollis 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deadbeat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fugs,
Cybotron,
Eric Copeland,
The Cure,
Model 500,
Black Sheep,
Monks,
Donny Hathaway,
Nirvana,
The Sonics,
Suicide,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Mo-Dettes,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ralphi Rosario,
DJ Style,
Con Funk Shun,
Eric B and Rakim,
Jerry's Kids,
Soft Cell,
Cheater Slicks,
Severed Heads,
Outsiders,
The Skatalites,
Dark Day,
Lee Hazlewood,
Supertramp,
Mantronix,
Warren Ellis,
Kurtis Blow,
Swell Maps,
Sun City Girls,
Hashim,
Gang Starr,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Pussy Galore,
Khruangbin,
Intrusion,
Carl Craig,
Das Ding,
Duran Duran,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Fire Engines,
Moss Icon,
Jacob Miller,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Brass Construction,
Wally Richardson,
Leonard Cohen,
Country Teasers,
The Last Poets,
Crime,
Index,
Wasted Youth,
Glambeats Corp.,
Hardrive,
Qualms,
Boogie Down Productions,
Agitation Free,
Groovy Waters,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Wings,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.