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 Ghana and from Glasgow.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Bobby Womack to the rap 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 ABBA. All the underground hits.
All Faraquet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Grass Roots 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 a snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Remains,
Infiniti,
Wings,
Lightning Bolt,
E-Dancer,
Ultra Naté,
Pantytec,
The New Christs,
Rekid,
Thompson Twins,
Soul II Soul,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Buzzcocks,
Duran Duran,
Anthony Braxton,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
R.M.O.,
Spandau Ballet,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Sister Nancy,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Country Teasers,
Lucky Dragons,
The Real Kids,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Mantronix,
Cluster,
Au Pairs,
D'Angelo,
X-Ray Spex,
Man Parrish,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
John Coltrane,
AZ,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Crispy Ambulance,
Jerry's Kids,
Lalann,
Derrick May,
the Germs,
Yazoo,
Soft Cell,
DJ Sneak,
Barclay James Harvest,
Funkadelic,
Boredoms,
Severed Heads,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Camouflage,
Cymande,
Bush Tetras,
Monolake,
Ken Boothe,
Prince Buster,
Barbara Tucker,
Laurel Aitken,
Robert Görl,
Derrick Morgan,
Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U.
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.