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 Nauru and from Milan.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Lonnie Liston Smith to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Nik Kershaw. All the underground hits.
All The Fuzztones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sound Behaviour 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
Model 500,
Glenn Branca,
Yazoo,
ABBA,
New Order,
Tom Boy,
The Blackbyrds,
Bluetip,
Man Parrish,
Sparks,
Nirvana,
Fela Kuti,
Circle Jerks,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Camouflage,
Bauhaus,
Nico,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Alton Ellis,
June of 44,
Rites of Spring,
Sun Ra,
Donald Byrd,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Jawbox,
Deakin,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Crooked Eye,
Masters at Work,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Fire Engines,
Porter Ricks,
Symarip,
Drive Like Jehu,
Agent Orange,
Lou Reed,
Ronan,
Fad Gadget,
Eli Mardock,
Mission of Burma,
Joyce Sims,
Jacques Brel,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Pagans,
Whodini,
Traffic Nightmare,
Unwound,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
DJ Sneak,
Minnie Riperton,
Darondo,
Icehouse,
The Saints,
The Wake,
Thompson Twins,
The New Christs,
Sex Pistols,
CMW,
Jesper Dahlback,
Amazonics,
Scan 7,
Lalo Schifrin, Lalo Schifrin, Lalo Schifrin, Lalo Schifrin.
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.