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 Angola and from Madrid.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family to the rap 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 Moby Grape. All the underground hits.
All Harmonia tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ohio Players,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Glambeats Corp.,
Tropical Tobacco,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Cure,
Letta Mbulu,
Suburban Knight,
Byron Stingily,
Matthew Halsall,
The Last Poets,
Dorothy Ashby,
Television Personalities,
the Human League,
Henry Cow,
Unrelated Segments,
Rekid,
Susan Cadogan,
X-102,
Radiopuhelimet,
Todd Terry,
MDC,
Groovy Waters,
Ludus,
The Smoke,
Rod Modell,
Crooked Eye,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Delta 5,
Freddie Wadling,
Thompson Twins,
Roger Hodgson,
Grandmaster Flash,
Dual Sessions,
Oneida,
The Wake,
Sonny Sharrock,
Blancmange,
Jerry's Kids,
Zero Boys,
Nik Kershaw,
Sex Pistols,
T. Rex,
Infiniti,
The Fall,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Throbbing Gristle,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Kinks,
Television,
Pulsallama,
Brick,
Franke,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Cluster,
Wings,
Al Stewart,
Juan Atkins,
Lakeside,
The Flesh Eaters,
Inner City,
JFA, JFA, JFA, JFA.
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.