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 Micronesia and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 marimba 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 8 Eyed Spy to the dance 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 Organ. All the underground hits.
All Pantaleimon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marmalade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Judy Mowatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Television,
James White and The Blacks,
Rites of Spring,
Howard Jones,
Sister Nancy,
The Remains,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Public Enemy,
Au Pairs,
The Young Rascals,
Angry Samoans,
Television Personalities,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Walker Brothers,
Franke,
Jerry's Kids,
Cluster,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Newcleus,
Grauzone,
The Barracudas,
Isaac Hayes,
Roxy Music,
Terry Callier,
Porter Ricks,
Crispian St. Peters,
Morten Harket,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bang On A Can,
Easy Going,
Blancmange,
U.S. Maple,
Eric B and Rakim,
David Bowie,
The Smoke,
DJ Style,
Warren Ellis,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Aloha Tigers,
The Modern Lovers,
Sonny Sharrock,
Cymande,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Doobie Brothers,
Zapp,
Lyres,
Talk Talk,
Maurizio,
The Real Kids,
Magma,
Monks,
Outsiders,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Charles Mingus,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Tomorrow,
Sexual Harrassment,
the Bar-Kays,
Aural Exciters,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Rakim,
Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu.
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.