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 Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 mellotron 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 The Flesh Eaters 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 The Moody Blues. All the underground hits.
All Bobbi Humphrey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Motions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dave Clark Five,
The Buckinghams,
Wolf Eyes,
B.T. Express,
Iggy Pop,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Can,
Popol Vuh,
The Walker Brothers,
Rakim,
Nik Kershaw,
Tomorrow,
Television,
China Crisis,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Kayak,
The Beau Brummels,
Sun City Girls,
Flash Fearless,
Sparks,
Moebius,
Aural Exciters,
Organ,
Goldenarms,
Brick,
David McCallum,
Fat Boys,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The J.B.'s,
the Soft Cell,
The Trojans,
Nirvana,
Robert Wyatt,
8 Eyed Spy,
Suicide,
Harmonia,
Girls At Our Best!,
Curtis Mayfield,
Juan Atkins,
Sun Ra,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Matthew Bourne,
Eric Copeland,
Lebanon Hanover,
The American Breed,
The Sound,
Buzzcocks,
Niagra,
Gabor Szabo,
Shoche,
Rhythm & Sound,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Techniques,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
E-Dancer,
The Offenders,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Young Marble Giants,
Crispian St. Peters,
James White and The Blacks,
The Index,
Duran Duran,
Bobby Sherman,
Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye.
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.