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 Djibouti and from Salvador.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Rakim to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Davy DMX. All the underground hits.
All The United States of America tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cramps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gerry Rafferty,
Gabor Szabo,
The Martian,
JFA,
The Vogues,
Tomorrow,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Idris Muhammad,
Matthew Halsall,
Robert Wyatt,
the Soft Cell,
Wings,
Rotary Connection,
Q and Not U,
The Divine Comedy,
Neu!,
Alton Ellis,
Harry Pussy,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Susan Cadogan,
Robert Görl,
The Flesh Eaters,
Kerri Chandler,
Skarface,
Mad Mike,
Rhythm & Sound,
Outsiders,
Dark Day,
Fela Kuti,
Crooked Eye,
Eden Ahbez,
Accadde A,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Joe Smooth,
Lungfish,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Nation of Ulysses,
Derrick May,
Kool Moe Dee,
Cal Tjader,
Duran Duran,
Can,
Maleditus Sound,
Darondo,
F. McDonald,
T.S.O.L.,
Simply Red,
Magma,
Amon Düül II,
Boogie Down Productions,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Kurtis Blow,
The Seeds,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Move,
The Leaves,
Black Moon,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ornette Coleman,
The Toasters,
Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux.
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.