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 Switzerland and from Mexico City.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Motorama to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Whodini. All the underground hits.
All John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Red Lorry Yellow Lorry 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faraquet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba 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 Flesh Eaters,
The Moody Blues,
The Dirtbombs,
Thee Headcoats,
Judy Mowatt,
The Doobie Brothers,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Last Poets,
Easy Going,
FM Einheit,
Tears for Fears,
Archie Shepp,
X-101,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Model 500,
The Monks,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Gladiators,
Arthur Verocai,
Nik Kershaw,
UT,
Drexciya,
D'Angelo,
Yazoo,
Traffic Nightmare,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Faraquet,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Man Parrish,
Aloha Tigers,
Donny Hathaway,
The Detroit Cobras,
David McCallum,
Panda Bear,
Josef K,
The Blues Magoos,
Mo-Dettes,
Erykah Badu,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Make Up,
Infiniti,
Sight & Sound,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Terry Callier,
Ludus,
Iggy Pop,
World's Most,
Leonard Cohen,
The Shadows of Knight,
Aural Exciters,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Chris & Cosey,
Subhumans,
David Axelrod,
Nas,
Wolf Eyes,
Grey Daturas,
Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics.
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.