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 the UAE and from Bologna.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Bologna.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch to the techno 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 Susan Cadogan. All the underground hits.
All The Grass Roots tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
Television Personalities,
Goldenarms,
Neu!,
The Mummies,
The Tremeloes,
Khruangbin,
Fluxion,
EPMD,
Davy DMX,
the Germs,
R.M.O.,
Kaleidoscope,
B.T. Express,
Schoolly D,
Stereo Dub,
Cybotron,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Marine Girls,
Theoretical Girls,
Make Up,
Half Japanese,
Moss Icon,
the Soft Cell,
Can,
Yusef Lateef,
Das Ding,
Bad Manners,
Piero Umiliani,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
This Heat,
The Saints,
John Coltrane,
FM Einheit,
The Slits,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bizarre Inc.,
Fat Boys,
In Retrospect,
Minutemen,
Suburban Knight,
Soulsonic Force,
Porter Ricks,
Marcia Griffiths,
Model 500,
Deakin,
Amon Düül II,
The Sound,
Supertramp,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sex Pistols,
Icehouse,
Echospace,
David Bowie,
These Immortal Souls,
Junior Murvin,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Warren Ellis,
Flipper,
Gerry Rafferty,
Soft Cell,
Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich.
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.