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 Korea North and from Jakarta.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 X-Ray Spex to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Goldenarms. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Intrusion record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minnie Riperton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Standells,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Dennis Brown,
Scott Walker,
Faraquet,
Crispian St. Peters,
Fluxion,
Scrapy,
Funkadelic,
Sex Pistols,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Hoover,
Niagra,
Make Up,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
June Days,
Lightning Bolt,
Simply Red,
Delta 5,
David Bowie,
Schoolly D,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Marcia Griffiths,
Harmonia,
Urselle,
Ituana,
Robert Wyatt,
Althea and Donna,
Drexciya,
Ohio Players,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Curtis Mayfield,
Dead Boys,
Marvin Gaye,
Ornette Coleman,
The Shadows of Knight,
the Association,
Bizarre Inc.,
Man Eating Sloth,
Grey Daturas,
The Vogues,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Jerry's Kids,
The Selecter,
Bootsy Collins,
Japan,
EPMD,
Al Stewart,
Peter and Kerry,
Joe Finger,
Harry Pussy,
The Slackers,
Radiohead,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Faust,
Tomorrow,
Neu!,
The Victims,
Agitation Free,
Eric Dolphy,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Duran Duran,
Fad Gadget,
Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee.
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.