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 Indonesia and from Madrid.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the marimba 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 Black Sheep to the dance 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 Magazine. All the underground hits.
All The Associates tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Selector Dub Narcotic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
Quadrant,
Howard Jones,
Danielle Patucci,
Bang On A Can,
The Victims,
The Names,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Soft Machine,
Jimmy McGriff,
Talk Talk,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Lakeside,
Oblivians,
Morten Harket,
Johnny Osbourne,
Marc Almond,
Stetsasonic,
Bronski Beat,
Marmalade,
Rakim,
Carl Craig,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Arthur Verocai,
MC5,
June Days,
The Smiths,
The Trojans,
Marine Girls,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Suicide,
The Slits,
Warren Ellis,
Chris & Cosey,
Fatback Band,
Nico,
Jeru the Damaja,
Skriet,
Spandau Ballet,
Marshall Jefferson,
F. McDonald,
Frankie Knuckles,
Rosa Yemen,
The Happenings,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Monks,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Cymande,
The Moody Blues,
Ralphi Rosario,
Kurtis Blow,
E-Dancer,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bill Near,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Franke,
The Remains,
Jawbox,
Moby Grape,
Ponytail,
The Red Krayola,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Niagra,
Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal.
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.