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 Vanuatu and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Pussy Galore to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All The Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Section 25 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nico,
Crispian St. Peters,
Fela Kuti,
Godley & Creme,
Gastr Del Sol,
Banda Bassotti,
Radio Birdman,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Deepchord,
Rotary Connection,
The Trojans,
The Mummies,
Barrington Levy,
Duran Duran,
Kerri Chandler,
Grey Daturas,
the Germs,
Kayak,
Roy Ayers,
The Buckinghams,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lou Christie,
The Doors,
Barry Ungar,
Warren Ellis,
Nation of Ulysses,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lucky Dragons,
The Remains,
The Standells,
Infiniti,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Loose Ends,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Supertramp,
Freddie Wadling,
The Saints,
KRS-One,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Wally Richardson,
The Litter,
The Fuzztones,
David Axelrod,
Ornette Coleman,
The Moleskins,
Hashim,
New York Dolls,
Sonny Sharrock,
Amon Düül II,
PIL,
The Misunderstood,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Eve St. Jones,
D'Angelo,
Lou Reed,
John Coltrane,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sixth Finger,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.