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 Slovakia and from Columbus.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 synthesizer 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 Inner City to the techno 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 David McCallum. All the underground hits.
All Fifty Foot Hose tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Carl Craig record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
These Immortal Souls,
The Index,
Depeche Mode,
Aswad,
Eric Copeland,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Toni Rubio,
China Crisis,
DJ Sneak,
Flipper,
The Cowsills,
Derrick May,
The Fortunes,
The Trojans,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Dawn Penn,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Cameo,
The Count Five,
Robert Wyatt,
The Barracudas,
The Moleskins,
Piero Umiliani,
Jacques Brel,
Roy Ayers,
The Blackbyrds,
Gregory Isaacs,
Darondo,
Cybotron,
Deepchord,
Freddie Wadling,
Sex Pistols,
Gastr Del Sol,
Marmalade,
Barbara Tucker,
Brick,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Johnny Clarke,
David McCallum,
the Normal,
Marc Almond,
Nas,
48th St. Collective,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Camouflage,
Minnie Riperton,
The Seeds,
Average White Band,
Girls At Our Best!,
Drexciya,
The American Breed,
Blossom Toes,
Todd Terry,
Public Enemy,
Throbbing Gristle,
Moebius,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Sonics,
Sällskapet,
Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk.
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.