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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Philadelphia.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 8 Eyed Spy to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All Japan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Last Poets record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Music Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Circle Jerks,
Hasil Adkins,
World's Most,
Harpers Bizarre,
Unrelated Segments,
John Foxx,
Deadbeat,
Brick,
Sarah Menescal,
Joensuu 1685,
a-ha,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bluetip,
Au Pairs,
The Offenders,
Gerry Rafferty,
Chrome,
Pylon,
Malaria!,
Lindisfarne,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Leaves,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Seeds,
Minnie Riperton,
James White and The Blacks,
Crispy Ambulance,
Susan Cadogan,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Angels of Light,
Talk Talk,
Iggy Pop,
Colin Newman,
Qualms,
Wire,
Joyce Sims,
Flamin' Groovies,
Pole,
Interpol,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Moebius,
Dennis Brown,
Magazine,
Matthew Bourne,
The Trojans,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Alice Coltrane,
Black Sheep,
The Busters,
Theoretical Girls,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Nick Fraelich,
Eric B and Rakim,
Connie Case,
F. McDonald,
The American Breed,
JFA,
The Wake,
Von Mondo,
Underground Resistance,
Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad.
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.