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 Cameroon and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 ABBA to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Ultramagnetic MC's. All the underground hits.
All Be Bop Deluxe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barry Ungar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lower 48,
Ronan,
June of 44,
Gil Scott Heron,
Tom Boy,
The Real Kids,
Mark Hollis,
The Golliwogs,
Eden Ahbez,
Newcleus,
Reuben Wilson,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Move,
T.S.O.L.,
A Certain Ratio,
Jerry's Kids,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Monochrome Set,
The Red Krayola,
Lalann,
A Flock of Seagulls,
H. Thieme,
Ultimate Spinach,
Juan Atkins,
Jacques Brel,
Make Up,
James Chance & The Contortions,
K-Klass,
Adolescents,
Pantaleimon,
The Trojans,
DJ Style,
Bluetip,
Von Mondo,
Little Man,
Subhumans,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Letta Mbulu,
The J.B.'s,
Heaven 17,
Dorothy Ashby,
Man Eating Sloth,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Mr. Review,
Swell Maps,
Max Romeo,
Infiniti,
The Five Americans,
Alice Coltrane,
The Fuzztones,
Sugar Minott,
Susan Cadogan,
Japan,
Black Bananas,
AZ,
Soul II Soul,
Tubeway Army,
Sunsets and Hearts,
One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish.
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.