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 Bahrain and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 A Certain Ratio 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 Erykah Badu. All the underground hits.
All Eyeless In Gaza tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warsaw record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pole,
the Bar-Kays,
X-101,
Gang Green,
Ludus,
Rod Modell,
Pantytec,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bobby Sherman,
Sandy B,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Theoretical Girls,
Schoolly D,
Easy Going,
The Moody Blues,
Agitation Free,
Surgeon,
Howard Jones,
These Immortal Souls,
Con Funk Shun,
Sun City Girls,
Loose Ends,
Monks,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Standells,
World's Most,
Pierre Henry,
Flipper,
David McCallum,
Connie Case,
Sällskapet,
Ralphi Rosario,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Motorama,
Al Stewart,
Television Personalities,
Archie Shepp,
The Last Poets,
Shuggie Otis,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Alison Limerick,
Fela Kuti,
Drexciya,
Colin Newman,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Residents,
Max Romeo,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Public Image Ltd.,
Babytalk,
Rites of Spring,
Malaria!,
Q and Not U,
Organ,
The Dirtbombs,
Neu!,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Scott Walker,
Thompson Twins,
a-ha,
8 Eyed Spy,
Scientists, Scientists, Scientists, Scientists.
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.