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 Lithuania and from Halifax.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Pylon to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All Rosa Yemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Parry Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cluster,
The Mojo Men,
Animal Collective,
Arcadia,
Rakim,
Soft Cell,
Frankie Knuckles,
Accadde A,
cv313,
Monks,
Scratch Acid,
Amon Düül II,
The Selecter,
Janne Schatter,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bill Wells,
Bootsy Collins,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Moleskins,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Fortunes,
Kas Product,
Bush Tetras,
Robert Hood,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Jeff Lynne,
The Raincoats,
Alphaville,
E-Dancer,
Terrestrial Tones,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Vainqueur,
Mr. Review,
A Certain Ratio,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Don Cherry,
Sonny Sharrock,
Ludus,
The Index,
Rufus Thomas,
Ossler,
Minnie Riperton,
The Real Kids,
X-101,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Beau Brummels,
Surgeon,
One Last Wish,
June of 44,
Hashim,
Bluetip,
James White and The Blacks,
The Happenings,
Skarface,
U.S. Maple,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Gang Starr,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Freddie Wadling,
Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu.
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.