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 Ghana and from Beijing.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
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 Letta Mbulu to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Prince Buster. All the underground hits.
All Rekid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Five Americans 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott Heron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yusef Lateef,
Panda Bear,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sex Pistols,
Stiv Bators,
Prince Buster,
The Fall,
Kevin Saunderson,
New Age Steppers,
Mr. Review,
Make Up,
John Coltrane,
PIL,
Roxy Music,
The Grass Roots,
Gregory Isaacs,
Marmalade,
Mars,
Man Parrish,
Mark Hollis,
Tom Boy,
Das Ding,
Eli Mardock,
Swans,
Ronan,
The Sound,
The Dirtbombs,
Alphaville,
Black Pus,
Surgeon,
Crime,
Oneida,
Scan 7,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
H. Thieme,
Rapeman,
Y Pants,
Leonard Cohen,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Kenny Larkin,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Victims,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Neu!,
Funky Four + One,
In Retrospect,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Basic Channel,
the Swans,
Moss Icon,
The Durutti Column,
Wasted Youth,
The Count Five,
The Smiths,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Index,
Scrapy,
Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp.
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.