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 Morocco 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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 guitar 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 Sex Pistols to the funk 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 The United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Metal Thangz 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gap Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Second Layer,
Ituana,
Youth Brigade,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Gun Club,
Man Eating Sloth,
Vainqueur,
The Cramps,
Idris Muhammad,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Invisible,
Kurtis Blow,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Music Machine,
The Electric Prunes,
Sonny Sharrock,
Banda Bassotti,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Kaleidoscope,
Masters at Work,
The Busters,
James White and The Blacks,
Cecil Taylor,
Niagra,
Bill Near,
Liliput,
The Gories,
Stiv Bators,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
the Soft Cell,
Soul II Soul,
Television Personalities,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Brick,
Drexciya,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Grass Roots,
Q and Not U,
Mandrill,
Grauzone,
X-102,
Nation of Ulysses,
Echospace,
Iggy Pop,
Electric Prunes,
Spoonie Gee,
the Bar-Kays,
Jerry's Kids,
The Moody Blues,
Scientists,
Darondo,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Knickerbockers,
Mary Jane Girls,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Grey Daturas,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The New Christs,
Shuggie Otis,
Scott Walker,
Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen.
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.