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 Malawi and from Toronto.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Model 500 to the funk 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 The Mojo Men. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
La Düsseldorf,
Soul II Soul,
John Cale,
Masters at Work,
The Fall,
Funky Four + One,
Interpol,
Terrestrial Tones,
Nico,
Wire,
the Association,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Yellowson,
Maleditus Sound,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Max Romeo,
Pierre Henry,
Anakelly,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Harry Pussy,
Pantytec,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Slave,
The Doors,
Black Moon,
Fear,
the Normal,
Newcleus,
Sugar Minott,
Television,
Eddi Front,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Quadrant,
Bush Tetras,
The Searchers,
U.S. Maple,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Donny Hathaway,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Surgeon,
Half Japanese,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Silicon Teens,
David Bowie,
Funkadelic,
Cymande,
Crime,
Babytalk,
Chris & Cosey,
Ralphi Rosario,
Matthew Halsall,
Gregory Isaacs,
Bluetip,
Oneida,
Rod Modell,
The Trojans,
John Coltrane,
Minor Threat,
Index,
The Five Americans,
Matthew Bourne,
Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun.
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.