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 San Marino and from Columbus.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 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 Camouflage to the electroclash 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 The Buckinghams. All the underground hits.
All Niagra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sixth Finger record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soulsonic Force record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalo Schifrin,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Moby Grape,
the Bar-Kays,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Technova,
Robert Hood,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Durutti Column,
Section 25,
Pylon,
Robert Wyatt,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Intrusion,
Peter & Gordon,
The Wake,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bill Near,
Man Parrish,
Deepchord,
Marc Almond,
Kenny Larkin,
Absolute Body Control,
Boogie Down Productions,
Yusef Lateef,
In Retrospect,
The Velvet Underground,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The New Christs,
Underground Resistance,
The Golliwogs,
Rosa Yemen,
Henry Cow,
Minutemen,
kango's stein massive,
Ponytail,
Curtis Mayfield,
Alice Coltrane,
Nirvana,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Victims,
Cluster,
The Knickerbockers,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Last Poets,
Minnie Riperton,
Bronski Beat,
Michelle Simonal,
Laurel Aitken,
Juan Atkins,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Dead Boys,
Dark Day,
Subhumans,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
David Bowie,
Sällskapet,
Letta Mbulu,
Rotary Connection,
The American Breed,
Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs.
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.