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 Armenia and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 Winnipeg and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 K-Klass to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Urselle. All the underground hits.
All Darondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Selecter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amazonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Rekid,
Big Daddy Kane,
Crispy Ambulance,
Loose Ends,
DJ Sneak,
Marmalade,
Marcia Griffiths,
Kenny Larkin,
Aswad,
X-Ray Spex,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Danielle Patucci,
Harmonia,
Skriet,
The Skatalites,
Nik Kershaw,
Matthew Bourne,
Brick,
Soul II Soul,
Sparks,
Nas,
The Standells,
Gang Green,
Gang Gang Dance,
Deepchord,
Nation of Ulysses,
Amon Düül,
Yaz,
Mo-Dettes,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Goldenarms,
World's Most,
Minnie Riperton,
Heaven 17,
Moebius,
Gang Starr,
Crash Course in Science,
The Gap Band,
Pierre Henry,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Red Krayola,
Pylon,
Idris Muhammad,
Junior Murvin,
Terry Callier,
Agent Orange,
Theoretical Girls,
Vainqueur,
Trumans Water,
Alphaville,
The Divine Comedy,
Todd Terry,
Terrestrial Tones,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Pagans,
The Moody Blues,
Cymande,
Jerry Gold Smith,
the Germs,
Rakim, Rakim, Rakim, Rakim.
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.