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 Iran and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 marimba 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 Severed Heads to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 U.S. Maple. All the underground hits.
All Reuben Wilson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Sherman 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Das Ding record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sarah Menescal,
Bang On A Can,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Birthday Party,
X-102,
Faraquet,
Eddi Front,
The Litter,
Black Sheep,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lou Reed,
Throbbing Gristle,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Silicon Teens,
Iggy Pop,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Move,
Popol Vuh,
Arab on Radar,
Monolake,
Gang Starr,
Negative Approach,
The Red Krayola,
Faust,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Rakim,
Juan Atkins,
Ornette Coleman,
Scientists,
The Blues Magoos,
Second Layer,
Y Pants,
Bluetip,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Tom Boy,
Gang of Four,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Alarm Clocks,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ossler,
The Gories,
Black Pus,
Deadbeat,
The Divine Comedy,
Crime,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Stooges,
Aswad,
Sugar Minott,
H. Thieme,
Crispy Ambulance,
Aural Exciters,
Pulsallama,
Hardrive,
Severed Heads,
Con Funk Shun,
Babytalk,
Magazine,
The Skatalites,
Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic.
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.