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 Israel and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 güiro 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 The Last Poets to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Tremeloes. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Art Ensemble Of Chicago record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barrington Levy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxette,
Soft Cell,
The Mummies,
Sex Pistols,
Eurythmics,
The Saints,
Das Ding,
Fugazi,
Cybotron,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Walker Brothers,
Parry Music,
Jeru the Damaja,
Brothers Johnson,
L. Decosne,
These Immortal Souls,
Black Sheep,
Charles Mingus,
Visage,
Lebanon Hanover,
Fluxion,
The Kinks,
Quadrant,
Bobby Womack,
Connie Case,
Sandy B,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Nico,
JFA,
Jacob Miller,
Mary Jane Girls,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Essential Logic,
Desert Stars,
Deepchord,
Marmalade,
Con Funk Shun,
Cal Tjader,
Motorama,
Prince Buster,
The Fugs,
Buzzcocks,
the Fania All-Stars,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Young Marble Giants,
Lakeside,
The Vogues,
Ponytail,
Bootsy Collins,
Anakelly,
The Tremeloes,
June of 44,
Colin Newman,
Robert Hood,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Suburban Knight,
Tubeway Army,
Fear,
The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills.
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.