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 Cuba and from Woodstock.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the snare 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 Adolescents to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Inner City. All the underground hits.
All Ohio Players tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Louis and Bebe Barron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 guitar 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 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thompson Twins,
John Holt,
Gregory Isaacs,
Deadbeat,
The Moleskins,
David Bowie,
The Martian,
Cluster,
Fear,
Godley & Creme,
Monolake,
Eric B and Rakim,
Marshall Jefferson,
Oneida,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Blake Baxter,
Nico,
Bobby Sherman,
Black Bananas,
Morten Harket,
ABC,
Idris Muhammad,
Make Up,
ABBA,
Spoonie Gee,
Toni Rubio,
Alice Coltrane,
Malaria!,
The United States of America,
Mad Mike,
Kerrie Biddell,
JFA,
Eden Ahbez,
Gang Gang Dance,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Half Japanese,
Country Teasers,
Stetsasonic,
Dorothy Ashby,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Flesh Eaters,
the Swans,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Tommy Roe,
Stiv Bators,
Popol Vuh,
Ossler,
Cecil Taylor,
Scion,
Fela Kuti,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Music Machine,
Pulsallama,
Soulsonic Force,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Duran Duran,
Barbara Tucker,
Rosa Yemen,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Gang Starr,
Janne Schatter,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.