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 Turkey and from Lyon.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 Simply Red to the electroclash 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 Rod Modell. All the underground hits.
All Harmonia tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Panda Bear record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Golliwogs,
Lindisfarne,
Gastr Del Sol,
Underground Resistance,
Soulsonic Force,
Jeff Mills,
The Last Poets,
Black Flag,
Josef K,
Organ,
The Litter,
Pylon,
Television,
The Vogues,
Boz Scaggs,
The Doors,
Public Image Ltd.,
Half Japanese,
Lyres,
The Flesh Eaters,
Cheater Slicks,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Desert Stars,
Mark Hollis,
Depeche Mode,
Niagra,
Harry Pussy,
Livin' Joy,
Spoonie Gee,
The Martian,
The Offenders,
The Beau Brummels,
Sex Pistols,
Steve Hackett,
UT,
Rakim,
Black Bananas,
EPMD,
Q65,
Vainqueur,
Ice-T,
Derrick Morgan,
Blancmange,
H. Thieme,
Whodini,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Hot Snakes,
The Blues Magoos,
Anthony Braxton,
Eric Copeland,
Robert Wyatt,
Gerry Rafferty,
10cc,
Big Daddy Kane,
Glambeats Corp.,
Trumans Water,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Au Pairs,
Derrick May,
Bizarre Inc.,
Cymande,
Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo.
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.