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 Mexico and from Johannesburg.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Whodini to the punk 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 Warsaw. All the underground hits.
All James White and The Blacks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sam Rivers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ronnie Foster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
Maleditus Sound,
The Flesh Eaters,
Dual Sessions,
Robert Hood,
Talk Talk,
The Fire Engines,
The Blackbyrds,
Barclay James Harvest,
Jimmy McGriff,
Lou Christie,
The Gun Club,
New York Dolls,
Man Eating Sloth,
La Düsseldorf,
Prince Buster,
Archie Shepp,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Zero Boys,
Scan 7,
The Invisible,
Eurythmics,
Severed Heads,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Kenny Larkin,
Rekid,
Derrick Morgan,
The Doors,
Gerry Rafferty,
Hoover,
Moby Grape,
Crispy Ambulance,
Davy DMX,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Wake,
Quadrant,
The Walker Brothers,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Quando Quango,
Connie Case,
The Mighty Diamonds,
the Sonics,
Can,
Aloha Tigers,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Man Parrish,
Josef K,
Surgeon,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Velvet Underground,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Dark Day,
Scratch Acid,
Piero Umiliani,
Sister Nancy,
Intrusion,
Kerri Chandler,
The Cowsills,
Erykah Badu,
The Fuzztones,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Smiths,
Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy.
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.