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 Antigua and from Sao Paulo.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Black Sheep to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy's Rubber Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every FM Einheit record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
OOIOO,
Fluxion,
Blossom Toes,
The United States of America,
Reagan Youth,
Derrick May,
Wings,
The Birthday Party,
This Heat,
Index,
Tres Demented,
Niagra,
Bluetip,
The Gun Club,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Dirtbombs,
Eden Ahbez,
Neil Young,
Angry Samoans,
Mandrill,
Quando Quango,
Deadbeat,
Bob Dylan,
David Bowie,
Livin' Joy,
The Five Americans,
Idris Muhammad,
Pulsallama,
Fugazi,
The Electric Prunes,
Gang Green,
Crooked Eye,
Gil Scott Heron,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Mission of Burma,
Spandau Ballet,
The J.B.'s,
Funkadelic,
Scientists,
Sight & Sound,
Underground Resistance,
The Pop Group,
Eve St. Jones,
Hashim,
ABC,
Ituana,
Popol Vuh,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Lindisfarne,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Moleskins,
The Seeds,
Ronnie Foster,
Aural Exciters,
June Days,
Bootsy Collins,
The Star Department,
The Blackbyrds,
Dave Gahan,
cv313,
Junior Murvin,
Motorama, Motorama, Motorama, Motorama.
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.