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 Burkina and from Mexico City.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Niagra. All the underground hits.
All Siglo XX tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Junior Murvin 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Copeland record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bronski Beat,
The Leaves,
Hardrive,
The Walker Brothers,
Max Romeo,
New Age Steppers,
Kayak,
Das Ding,
Spoonie Gee,
Stetsasonic,
Chrome,
Pagans,
Pulsallama,
The Misunderstood,
Echospace,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The New Christs,
The Slackers,
The Grass Roots,
Althea and Donna,
Kevin Saunderson,
Livin' Joy,
Pantaleimon,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Blues Magoos,
Saccharine Trust,
Motorama,
Lakeside,
The Mummies,
The Buckinghams,
Agent Orange,
Donald Byrd,
The Cramps,
Man Parrish,
The Tremeloes,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Mr. Review,
The Gun Club,
Ralphi Rosario,
K-Klass,
T. Rex,
The Associates,
James Chance & The Contortions,
John Coltrane,
Drive Like Jehu,
Dave Gahan,
Can,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Dave Clark Five,
Vladislav Delay,
Basic Channel,
Absolute Body Control,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Camouflage,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Interpol,
Dawn Penn,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Scion,
Y Pants,
Model 500,
Skaos, Skaos, Skaos, Skaos.
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.