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 San Marino and from Sao Paulo.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Johannesburg.
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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Wally Richardson to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Hot Snakes. All the underground hits.
All Dorothy Ashby tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pagans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Andrew Hill,
Electric Prunes,
Surgeon,
Minny Pops,
Mission of Burma,
The Zeros,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Associates,
Mars,
Spandau Ballet,
Funkadelic,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Star Department,
Pantytec,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Radio Birdman,
A Flock of Seagulls,
EPMD,
Terry Callier,
Aswad,
Nirvana,
Tears for Fears,
James Chance & The Contortions,
the Bar-Kays,
Interpol,
Tres Demented,
The Dead C,
Adolescents,
New Order,
Bad Manners,
Don Cherry,
Motorama,
The Fall,
Gerry Rafferty,
Black Flag,
ABBA,
Blossom Toes,
Brothers Johnson,
DJ Sneak,
The Remains,
Blake Baxter,
The Monks,
Funky Four + One,
Delta 5,
F. McDonald,
X-102,
Lalo Schifrin,
Arcadia,
The Searchers,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Das Ding,
Eric B and Rakim,
Desert Stars,
Crooked Eye,
Hashim,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Second Layer,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons.
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.