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 Eritrea and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 snare 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 Inner City to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All Ralphi Rosario tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barry Ungar 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
8 Eyed Spy,
Altered Images,
The Fuzztones,
Charles Mingus,
Jerry's Kids,
Nirvana,
The Searchers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Anthony Braxton,
Easy Going,
Skaos,
Visage,
Gil Scott Heron,
Underground Resistance,
Buzzcocks,
kango's stein massive,
The Zeros,
Don Cherry,
Archie Shepp,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Oneida,
Byron Stingily,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bill Wells,
Aloha Tigers,
Vladislav Delay,
Liliput,
AZ,
The American Breed,
Robert Wyatt,
Darondo,
ABC,
The Leaves,
John Foxx,
Severed Heads,
Dawn Penn,
Duran Duran,
Jimmy McGriff,
Kas Product,
Joyce Sims,
Joe Smooth,
Peter and Kerry,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Gories,
Rekid,
John Lydon,
Silicon Teens,
Wolf Eyes,
the Human League,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Franke,
Grey Daturas,
Black Pus,
Joy Division,
Dorothy Ashby,
Y Pants,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.