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 East Timor and from Portland.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the theremin 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 Gang Gang Dance to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All Jerry Gold Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Finger 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joensuu 1685 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boz Scaggs,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Young Rascals,
Country Teasers,
CMW,
T.S.O.L.,
Agent Orange,
Niagra,
Mo-Dettes,
Scrapy,
The Shadows of Knight,
Shuggie Otis,
Davy DMX,
Pagans,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
These Immortal Souls,
The Angels of Light,
The Martian,
Donny Hathaway,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lee Hazlewood,
Terry Callier,
Tres Demented,
Connie Case,
Bob Dylan,
Bad Manners,
Flipper,
Laurel Aitken,
Ralphi Rosario,
Parry Music,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Reuben Wilson,
Darondo,
Al Stewart,
Duran Duran,
The Remains,
Sex Pistols,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Doobie Brothers,
Rod Modell,
EPMD,
The Skatalites,
Scan 7,
the Swans,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Livin' Joy,
James White and The Blacks,
Smog,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sixth Finger,
Boogie Down Productions,
Groovy Waters,
Erasure,
Ronnie Foster,
Michelle Simonal,
Mars,
Babytalk,
The Zeros,
R.M.O.,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Pop Group,
Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas.
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.