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 Moldova and from Winnipeg.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Fania All-Stars to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Modern Lovers. All the underground hits.
All The Cure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every FM Einheit 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a These Immortal Souls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
Gang of Four,
Eve St. Jones,
EPMD,
Oneida,
The Durutti Column,
Dead Boys,
Johnny Clarke,
Icehouse,
Nation of Ulysses,
Michelle Simonal,
Kerri Chandler,
Magazine,
Chrome,
R.M.O.,
Newcleus,
Funky Four + One,
Excepter,
Grey Daturas,
Talk Talk,
Letta Mbulu,
Bill Near,
Thompson Twins,
UT,
Spoonie Gee,
Ultra Naté,
Eric Dolphy,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Drexciya,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Mission of Burma,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Intrusion,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sonny Sharrock,
Minnie Riperton,
Kayak,
Bad Manners,
Kurtis Blow,
Rotary Connection,
The Five Americans,
DJ Sneak,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Television Personalities,
K-Klass,
Animal Collective,
Janne Schatter,
Brand Nubian,
Das Ding,
Sight & Sound,
Stetsasonic,
the Soft Cell,
Gabor Szabo,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lyres,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Man Parrish,
Dennis Brown,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Trojans,
Saccharine Trust,
Severed Heads,
Charles Mingus,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia.
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.