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 Belarus and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Robert Wyatt to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Cramps. All the underground hits.
All Nik Kershaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sixth Finger record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Con Funk Shun record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
KRS-One,
The Black Dice,
Malaria!,
Eve St. Jones,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Junior Murvin,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Wings,
The Music Machine,
The Vogues,
Delta 5,
Tropical Tobacco,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Barracudas,
Cluster,
the Sonics,
Crime,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Procol Harum,
Derrick May,
Bluetip,
Crooked Eye,
Grandmaster Flash,
Ultimate Spinach,
Rapeman,
Roxette,
Sandy B,
The Slackers,
Lou Reed,
Theoretical Girls,
Black Moon,
Popol Vuh,
Mary Jane Girls,
Skarface,
Lee Hazlewood,
Dawn Penn,
Porter Ricks,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Johnny Osbourne,
Pussy Galore,
Banda Bassotti,
Flash Fearless,
Gabor Szabo,
Pagans,
Warsaw,
Moss Icon,
Skriet,
Kerrie Biddell,
Grauzone,
The Moody Blues,
Davy DMX,
Aloha Tigers,
Brick,
The Busters,
Spandau Ballet,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Motorama,
Scion,
The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats.
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.