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 Solomon Islands and from Jakarta.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 808 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 Public Image Ltd. to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Tres Demented. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marine Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sunsets and Hearts,
Lou Reed,
Pierre Henry,
Thee Headcoats,
Q65,
Popol Vuh,
Camberwell Now,
Radiopuhelimet,
Infiniti,
Chrome,
Rhythm & Sound,
X-102,
Pharoah Sanders,
Shuggie Otis,
Ossler,
Television Personalities,
The Toasters,
Angry Samoans,
Don Cherry,
Albert Ayler,
The Techniques,
Monks,
Tubeway Army,
The Offenders,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
A Certain Ratio,
Nils Olav,
The Angels of Light,
The Golliwogs,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Yazoo,
Eurythmics,
Ituana,
Yusef Lateef,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Moody Blues,
The Misunderstood,
Goldenarms,
Jesper Dahlback,
Roger Hodgson,
Andrew Hill,
Tropical Tobacco,
cv313,
Wally Richardson,
ABBA,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Unrelated Segments,
Minutemen,
James White and The Blacks,
Ultra Naté,
Janne Schatter,
Gabor Szabo,
D'Angelo,
The Selecter,
AZ,
Lungfish,
Radio Birdman,
Youth Brigade,
Faraquet,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.