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 Estonia and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 harpsichord 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 H. Thieme to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Gil Scott Heron. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oneida record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yaz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Desert Stars,
Joensuu 1685,
Severed Heads,
Howard Jones,
Excepter,
A Certain Ratio,
Joe Smooth,
Index,
Arcadia,
Ultra Naté,
Joe Finger,
Warsaw,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sun City Girls,
World's Most,
Cal Tjader,
Surgeon,
Sparks,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Cameo,
UT,
Stockholm Monsters,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Minnie Riperton,
Delon & Dalcan,
Barclay James Harvest,
Cymande,
Basic Channel,
Brand Nubian,
Camouflage,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Rites of Spring,
The Moody Blues,
Qualms,
Don Cherry,
Amon Düül,
Morten Harket,
Albert Ayler,
Boogie Down Productions,
Banda Bassotti,
Deepchord,
The Divine Comedy,
Arab on Radar,
Chrome,
Terry Callier,
Bronski Beat,
Lalann,
Pantytec,
The Associates,
Peter & Gordon,
Subhumans,
Metal Thangz,
The Searchers,
Con Funk Shun,
Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7.
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.