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 Argentina and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell to the rap 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 One Last Wish. All the underground hits.
All the Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cameo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Metal Thangz,
Ronan,
Parry Music,
This Heat,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Anakelly,
Fela Kuti,
Man Eating Sloth,
Tears for Fears,
The Smoke,
DJ Style,
Sun Ra,
Neil Young,
X-101,
Gil Scott Heron,
Ultimate Spinach,
Traffic Nightmare,
Visage,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ituana,
Urselle,
Kas Product,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Popol Vuh,
Jacob Miller,
Half Japanese,
Bizarre Inc.,
Circle Jerks,
Mission of Burma,
Suburban Knight,
Supertramp,
Eric Copeland,
Quando Quango,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Interpol,
Cheater Slicks,
Bronski Beat,
Roxette,
Ash Ra Tempel,
the Fania All-Stars,
Franke,
Alice Coltrane,
U.S. Maple,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Gladiators,
LL Cool J,
Tim Buckley,
The Count Five,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Flamin' Groovies,
Hardrive,
Tomorrow,
Juan Atkins,
The Vogues,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Minny Pops,
Black Pus,
Boredoms,
Ponytail,
Pulsallama,
Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks.
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.