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 Kazakhstan and from Bremen.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 synthesizer 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 Albert Ayler to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Young Rascals. All the underground hits.
All Franke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bronski Beat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerrie Biddell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Bar-Kays,
The Victims,
Mo-Dettes,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Black Sheep,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Fuzztones,
Thompson Twins,
Black Bananas,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Selecter,
The Smiths,
JFA,
Brass Construction,
Tommy Roe,
Glenn Branca,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Reagan Youth,
Sam Rivers,
Audionom,
Niagra,
Tres Demented,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Pussy Galore,
Grauzone,
Stockholm Monsters,
Cal Tjader,
Siglo XX,
Smog,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Misunderstood,
The Cowsills,
Juan Atkins,
Alton Ellis,
Suburban Knight,
Pierre Henry,
Leonard Cohen,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Kenny Larkin,
Quadrant,
PIL,
MC5,
Bobby Womack,
James White and The Blacks,
Dave Gahan,
Icehouse,
Eve St. Jones,
Oneida,
OOIOO,
Barrington Levy,
Eddi Front,
Jimmy McGriff,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Sonics,
X-Ray Spex,
Matthew Halsall,
T.S.O.L.,
Amon Düül II,
Vladislav Delay,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Adolescents,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.