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 Malawi and from Seoul.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Bobbi Humphrey to the rap 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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All Angels of Light & Akron/Family tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cameo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron 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 theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Theoretical Girls,
Toni Rubio,
The Birthday Party,
Bizarre Inc.,
Charles Mingus,
Masters at Work,
Freddie Wadling,
Banda Bassotti,
Malaria!,
Jeff Lynne,
Delta 5,
David Axelrod,
Deakin,
PIL,
Camberwell Now,
F. McDonald,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Swans,
The Pretty Things,
The Standells,
The Smiths,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
the Sonics,
Lee Hazlewood,
Model 500,
Public Image Ltd.,
the Fania All-Stars,
Boogie Down Productions,
Marc Almond,
Whodini,
Radiopuhelimet,
Niagra,
The Fugs,
Sarah Menescal,
Jeru the Damaja,
Echospace,
Tubeway Army,
Livin' Joy,
Ken Boothe,
Johnny Clarke,
Q and Not U,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Angels of Light,
Marvin Gaye,
Franke,
Mission of Burma,
The Mojo Men,
the Soft Cell,
The Kinks,
Warren Ellis,
Aural Exciters,
Quando Quango,
Amon Düül II,
The Selecter,
ABBA,
The Pop Group,
Outsiders,
Ten City,
The Neon Judgement,
The Techniques,
Al Stewart,
Joensuu 1685,
Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway.
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.