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 Congo and from Taipei.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Sam Rivers to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Stiv Bators. All the underground hits.
All Quantec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vainqueur record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
Tres Demented,
The Kinks,
Agitation Free,
Monks,
Babytalk,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Black Bananas,
Kool Moe Dee,
Darondo,
Los Fastidios,
Rites of Spring,
Scientists,
Deakin,
Isaac Hayes,
Beasts of Bourbon,
8 Eyed Spy,
Danielle Patucci,
Colin Newman,
Mars,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ralphi Rosario,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Count Five,
Chrome,
Sällskapet,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Severed Heads,
David McCallum,
Joyce Sims,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Spoonie Gee,
Barclay James Harvest,
Hashim,
Excepter,
Slick Rick,
Duran Duran,
Marvin Gaye,
EPMD,
Suburban Knight,
the Germs,
Ken Boothe,
Q and Not U,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Charles Mingus,
Yusef Lateef,
Lucky Dragons,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Kerri Chandler,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Franke,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Rod Modell,
The Fuzztones,
Bang On A Can,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
the Soft Cell,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron.
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.