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 Nepal and from Manchester.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
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 Mark Hollis to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All The Gap Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Starr record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Lydon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Lightning Bolt,
Procol Harum,
Spoonie Gee,
Patti Smith,
Khruangbin,
Pantaleimon,
Bob Dylan,
Radiohead,
Lungfish,
X-102,
New Age Steppers,
the Germs,
Agent Orange,
Agitation Free,
Smog,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Skriet,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Silicon Teens,
Youth Brigade,
the Slits,
Visage,
Lucky Dragons,
DJ Style,
Harry Pussy,
Ronnie Foster,
Lalo Schifrin,
David Bowie,
The Alarm Clocks,
Boz Scaggs,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
X-Ray Spex,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Seeds,
Popol Vuh,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Move,
Alphaville,
Lower 48,
Fear,
Hasil Adkins,
Minnie Riperton,
The Fuzztones,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Saccharine Trust,
John Cale,
Flipper,
Gang Gang Dance,
Lyres,
Scion,
Alton Ellis,
Buzzcocks,
Guru Guru,
Eric Copeland,
Sight & Sound,
Siglo XX,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Michelle Simonal,
Subhumans,
Arab on Radar,
The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department.
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.