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 the UAE and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Bologna.
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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Barry Ungar to the grunge 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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cybotron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bad Manners record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Neil Young,
Ponytail,
Peter and Kerry,
Slick Rick,
Ultra Naté,
Faraquet,
Al Stewart,
Robert Hood,
Soul II Soul,
Graham Central Station,
The Saints,
Easy Going,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Evens,
Jerry's Kids,
The Red Krayola,
Organ,
Kerri Chandler,
John Cale,
Johnny Osbourne,
Pantaleimon,
Tres Demented,
Albert Ayler,
Grey Daturas,
R.M.O.,
Gang Starr,
Judy Mowatt,
Ice-T,
Man Parrish,
Skriet,
Lou Reed,
Newcleus,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Stetsasonic,
New York Dolls,
Soft Machine,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Adolescents,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Big Daddy Kane,
Joe Finger,
H. Thieme,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Slits,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Jacques Brel,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Livin' Joy,
The Residents,
Ronnie Foster,
Gang of Four,
UT,
Sonic Youth,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bizarre Inc.,
Schoolly D,
New Order,
Rufus Thomas,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane.
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.