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 Sierra Leone and from Sao Paulo.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Toronto.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Robert Hood to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Marshall Jefferson. All the underground hits.
All Cybotron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hashim 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yazoo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
Soul Sonic Force,
Blossom Toes,
New York Dolls,
Eurythmics,
Lalo Schifrin,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Cameo,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Junior Murvin,
The Litter,
John Cale,
Desert Stars,
Gerry Rafferty,
Niagra,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sandy B,
Sex Pistols,
Marshall Jefferson,
Parry Music,
Soft Machine,
the Fania All-Stars,
David McCallum,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Tremeloes,
Sound Behaviour,
Agent Orange,
Scientists,
Prince Buster,
Goldenarms,
The Trojans,
Hot Snakes,
Nico,
Bronski Beat,
Peter & Gordon,
Lucky Dragons,
Von Mondo,
Wally Richardson,
Aaron Thompson,
Pantaleimon,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Index,
Livin' Joy,
Qualms,
Masters at Work,
Bizarre Inc.,
Nik Kershaw,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Vladislav Delay,
The Invisible,
Roy Ayers,
Tim Buckley,
Y Pants,
The Skatalites,
Boogie Down Productions,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bootsy Collins,
The Offenders,
Graham Central Station,
Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon.
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.