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 Iceland and from Seoul.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell to the punk 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 Hardrive. All the underground hits.
All Mad Mike tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marmalade 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fela Kuti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faraquet,
ABC,
Slick Rick,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The American Breed,
Dorothy Ashby,
Colin Newman,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Nas,
Judy Mowatt,
Pole,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Sparks,
DJ Style,
Maleditus Sound,
Adolescents,
the Normal,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Pharoah Sanders,
Matthew Bourne,
Soulsonic Force,
H. Thieme,
Amazonics,
Gastr Del Sol,
Brick,
The Divine Comedy,
Visage,
JFA,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Alison Limerick,
Aaron Thompson,
Simply Red,
The Seeds,
Blossom Toes,
Kaleidoscope,
Banda Bassotti,
Rosa Yemen,
Depeche Mode,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Brand Nubian,
Minor Threat,
Mr. Review,
Mantronix,
Laurel Aitken,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Dennis Brown,
The Wake,
Ken Boothe,
Soft Machine,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Music Machine,
The Misunderstood,
Marc Almond,
The Electric Prunes,
The Blackbyrds,
The Monochrome Set,
Procol Harum,
Harpers Bizarre,
Terrestrial Tones,
a-ha,
The Moody Blues,
Sun City Girls,
Godley & Creme,
Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman.
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.