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 Equatorial Guinea and from Bremen.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Nirvana to the crunk 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 Skaos. All the underground hits.
All The Chocolate Watch Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & Metallica record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Curtis Mayfield,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Index,
Mo-Dettes,
Mantronix,
Mary Jane Girls,
World's Most,
The Offenders,
The Smoke,
K-Klass,
the Soft Cell,
Young Marble Giants,
Pulsallama,
the Fania All-Stars,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Aloha Tigers,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Iggy Pop,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Connie Case,
Fear,
The Move,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Names,
Wire,
Black Sheep,
The Zeros,
Cecil Taylor,
The Mummies,
PIL,
Freddie Wadling,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bad Manners,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Star Department,
Pole,
Fad Gadget,
Public Enemy,
kango's stein massive,
Agent Orange,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The New Christs,
Scan 7,
Zapp,
Arthur Verocai,
Groovy Waters,
Scion,
Mark Hollis,
Underground Resistance,
The Grass Roots,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
the Normal,
Ultra Naté,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bootsy Collins,
Con Funk Shun,
Section 25,
Marmalade,
Bill Near,
The Shadows of Knight,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.