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 Gambia and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 harpsichord 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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Iggy Pop tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang On A Can 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Zero Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Max Romeo,
Spandau Ballet,
Brick,
Los Fastidios,
Lightning Bolt,
Warsaw,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Severed Heads,
Amazonics,
48th St. Collective,
Urselle,
Franke,
Cal Tjader,
Gang Starr,
Mo-Dettes,
Roger Hodgson,
Cluster,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Connie Case,
Jerry's Kids,
Rapeman,
Vainqueur,
Mary Jane Girls,
Magazine,
The Smiths,
The Neon Judgement,
Fluxion,
Rakim,
Young Marble Giants,
Scrapy,
Skaos,
Organ,
the Normal,
Popol Vuh,
Supertramp,
Tom Boy,
Sugar Minott,
The Music Machine,
MC5,
Grauzone,
Moby Grape,
Black Flag,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Toasters,
Kool Moe Dee,
Rosa Yemen,
Echospace,
Eric Dolphy,
Patti Smith,
The Happenings,
Schoolly D,
The Grass Roots,
Tubeway Army,
Albert Ayler,
Eden Ahbez,
David Axelrod,
Con Funk Shun,
The Blues Magoos,
Fear,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Aloha Tigers,
Davy DMX, Davy DMX, Davy DMX, Davy DMX.
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.