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 Barbados and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Kayak. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gregory Isaacs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Trojans,
Colin Newman,
The Five Americans,
The Misunderstood,
Ludus,
Terry Callier,
Albert Ayler,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Flamin' Groovies,
Leonard Cohen,
Quando Quango,
Inner City,
The Gun Club,
Quantec,
Swans,
Harry Pussy,
Khruangbin,
Gerry Rafferty,
Suburban Knight,
Black Sheep,
Duran Duran,
Oblivians,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Derrick Morgan,
Don Cherry,
Cameo,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Gories,
Accadde A,
Maleditus Sound,
Mars,
Eli Mardock,
Pantaleimon,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ken Boothe,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Susan Cadogan,
Rod Modell,
The Modern Lovers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Skaos,
Amazonics,
The Red Krayola,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Gap Band,
Godley & Creme,
The Stooges,
Eric Dolphy,
Rosa Yemen,
Junior Murvin,
The Busters,
Deepchord,
Angry Samoans,
Ronnie Foster,
Crooked Eye,
Erykah Badu,
Section 25,
Kayak,
Jerry's Kids,
ABBA,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke.
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.