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 Nicaragua and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Johannesburg.
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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Jesper Dahlback to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Q65. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Halsall 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Count Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aloha Tigers,
Don Cherry,
Sandy B,
Freddie Wadling,
The Velvet Underground,
Matthew Bourne,
B.T. Express,
Silicon Teens,
Althea and Donna,
Eric Copeland,
Surgeon,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Banda Bassotti,
Brick,
Guru Guru,
New Order,
Moss Icon,
Heaven 17,
Aswad,
Eve St. Jones,
The Vogues,
Joyce Sims,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Todd Terry,
Mantronix,
Urselle,
Ponytail,
Qualms,
Amon Düül II,
The Litter,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Stiv Bators,
Sex Pistols,
Soul Sonic Force,
Magma,
Ice-T,
The Mojo Men,
FM Einheit,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Nirvana,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Shadows of Knight,
Japan,
Blancmange,
Tomorrow,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
DNA,
The American Breed,
Bill Near,
Funky Four + One,
John Cale,
Porter Ricks,
Mo-Dettes,
Radiohead,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Stereo Dub,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Con Funk Shun,
Jeru the Damaja,
ABBA, ABBA, ABBA, ABBA.
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.