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 Portugal and from Seoul.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the organ 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 Motions to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Camberwell Now. All the underground hits.
All Man Eating Sloth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultravox record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glambeats Corp.,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Barclay James Harvest,
Little Man,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Malaria!,
Television Personalities,
Ultravox,
Rekid,
Kayak,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Chris Corsano,
Camouflage,
Barbara Tucker,
Jeru the Damaja,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Amon Düül II,
Marcia Griffiths,
Royal Trux,
John Lydon,
The Misunderstood,
The Busters,
Yusef Lateef,
Thee Headcoats,
The Star Department,
Sandy B,
Colin Newman,
Das Ding,
Black Flag,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bootsy Collins,
Vainqueur,
Cheater Slicks,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Grey Daturas,
Fatback Band,
Neil Young,
Pussy Galore,
John Foxx,
The Zeros,
Patti Smith,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Saccharine Trust,
Masters at Work,
Simply Red,
Eve St. Jones,
Bobby Womack,
Swell Maps,
Robert Görl,
Marvin Gaye,
Fear,
Stetsasonic,
Dorothy Ashby,
Stockholm Monsters,
Michelle Simonal,
World's Most,
Dawn Penn,
Flash Fearless,
Gregory Isaacs,
Jerry's Kids,
Altered Images,
The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible.
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.