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 Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 synthesizer 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 Idris Muhammad to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Justin Hinds & The Dominoes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sugar Minott record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roy Ayers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick Morgan,
Television Personalities,
Eric Dolphy,
David Axelrod,
Shoche,
Piero Umiliani,
Jerry's Kids,
Outsiders,
The Golliwogs,
Trumans Water,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Brass Construction,
Sonic Youth,
Barbara Tucker,
The Raincoats,
The Searchers,
Jeff Lynne,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Colin Newman,
World's Most,
The Remains,
Faust,
Idris Muhammad,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Barrington Levy,
Suicide,
Spandau Ballet,
Tommy Roe,
The Grass Roots,
The Red Krayola,
ABBA,
Public Image Ltd.,
Slave,
These Immortal Souls,
Sugar Minott,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Anthony Braxton,
Aswad,
Curtis Mayfield,
Nico,
Slick Rick,
Electric Prunes,
Jeru the Damaja,
Hashim,
The Saints,
L. Decosne,
Althea and Donna,
Cymande,
Erykah Badu,
Henry Cow,
Brand Nubian,
B.T. Express,
Sister Nancy,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Mummies,
The Durutti Column,
Marcia Griffiths,
Public Enemy,
PIL,
Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran.
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.