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 Angola and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 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 Bobby Womack to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Alice Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Frankie Knuckles record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slave,
The Mojo Men,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Gong,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bobby Womack,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Chris Corsano,
Deadbeat,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Connie Case,
Icehouse,
Excepter,
Make Up,
Jeff Lynne,
Lakeside,
Unwound,
The Victims,
The Flesh Eaters,
Skaos,
Harmonia,
Radiopuhelimet,
DJ Sneak,
Man Parrish,
Ludus,
World's Most,
Kevin Saunderson,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Wire,
Magazine,
The New Christs,
Avey Tare,
Patti Smith,
Au Pairs,
Todd Terry,
Terry Callier,
The Remains,
Slick Rick,
Masters at Work,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Outsiders,
Max Romeo,
Trumans Water,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Radio Birdman,
China Crisis,
Darondo,
Model 500,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Television,
The Real Kids,
Boz Scaggs,
Gabor Szabo,
Jandek,
Loose Ends,
Banda Bassotti,
FM Einheit,
Bob Dylan,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
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.