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 Laos and from Delhi.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Grauzone to the funk 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 Qualms. All the underground hits.
All The Grass Roots tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Count Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cameo,
The Zeros,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Doobie Brothers,
Liliput,
Pole,
Chris Corsano,
Robert Wyatt,
The Monochrome Set,
Camouflage,
Darondo,
Delon & Dalcan,
Visage,
Erasure,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Scratch Acid,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Patti Smith,
Model 500,
Maleditus Sound,
The Detroit Cobras,
Skaos,
Ituana,
Pantaleimon,
Godley & Creme,
Gang of Four,
Graham Central Station,
The Divine Comedy,
Unwound,
a-ha,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Jandek,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Joey Negro,
Technova,
The Moody Blues,
Adolescents,
Todd Terry,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Scrapy,
Soulsonic Force,
Kayak,
Young Marble Giants,
Tomorrow,
the Fania All-Stars,
Brass Construction,
Monks,
Robert Görl,
Sarah Menescal,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Minnie Riperton,
Panda Bear,
Joy Division,
Bill Wells,
Can,
Bang On A Can,
Tim Buckley,
Eric Copeland,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Bluetip,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill.
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.