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 Swaziland and from Beijing.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the güiro 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 Metal Thangz to the disco 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 Judy Mowatt. All the underground hits.
All Juan Atkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gun Club 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gregory Isaacs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tim Buckley,
Mo-Dettes,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Anakelly,
Jawbox,
Pussy Galore,
In Retrospect,
Maurizio,
Neu!,
Lower 48,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Robert Görl,
Scientists,
Barrington Levy,
The Invisible,
Blossom Toes,
Ossler,
These Immortal Souls,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Chris Corsano,
One Last Wish,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Funky Four + One,
The Grass Roots,
Prince Buster,
R.M.O.,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Andrew Hill,
Sixth Finger,
Sun Ra,
Faust,
Hot Snakes,
The Offenders,
Robert Hood,
Big Daddy Kane,
Talk Talk,
Index,
Reuben Wilson,
Monks,
D'Angelo,
Eve St. Jones,
Tres Demented,
Marvin Gaye,
Bootsy Collins,
Barbara Tucker,
Section 25,
Shoche,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Monochrome Set,
Nils Olav,
Sam Rivers,
Jandek,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Technova,
Bobby Byrd,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Cymande,
The Fugs,
Man Parrish,
Skarface,
Rapeman,
B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express.
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.