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 Tuvalu and from Shanghai.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Winnipeg.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Donny Hathaway to the punk 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 Marshall Jefferson. All the underground hits.
All Gang of Four tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Symarip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Accadde A,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Rufus Thomas,
The Blackbyrds,
Fad Gadget,
Circle Jerks,
The Seeds,
Public Enemy,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bobby Sherman,
Bush Tetras,
Ossler,
The Standells,
Flash Fearless,
Don Cherry,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Mummies,
Angry Samoans,
The Remains,
Sällskapet,
Johnny Clarke,
Big Daddy Kane,
Swell Maps,
Wasted Youth,
Simply Red,
Organ,
the Swans,
Bobby Byrd,
Y Pants,
The Real Kids,
Aloha Tigers,
Buzzcocks,
Average White Band,
the Human League,
Bronski Beat,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Michelle Simonal,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Fire Engines,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Jeff Lynne,
Cluster,
Faraquet,
Tom Boy,
Funkadelic,
Moebius,
Loose Ends,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Blossom Toes,
Boredoms,
Gang of Four,
Monolake,
8 Eyed Spy,
Dead Boys,
Pantaleimon,
Von Mondo,
Prince Buster,
Desert Stars,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Marshall Jefferson,
Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter.
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.