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 Ukraine and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Kool Moe Dee to the funk 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 Marc Almond. All the underground hits.
All Rahsaan Roland Kirk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joyce Sims record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Christie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
Cheater Slicks,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Fad Gadget,
Dennis Brown,
Scrapy,
Boredoms,
Symarip,
The Monks,
The Barracudas,
Stiv Bators,
Barry Ungar,
Gichy Dan,
Blancmange,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Barrington Levy,
Prince Buster,
The Seeds,
Terrestrial Tones,
Drive Like Jehu,
ABC,
Franke,
Fela Kuti,
The Zeros,
K-Klass,
World's Most,
Yaz,
T. Rex,
Arab on Radar,
The Shadows of Knight,
Maleditus Sound,
The Searchers,
Max Romeo,
Kas Product,
The Young Rascals,
Trumans Water,
Wally Richardson,
Johnny Osbourne,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Pole,
DNA,
Deepchord,
Marcia Griffiths,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Tremeloes,
Thee Headcoats,
Eric B and Rakim,
Nik Kershaw,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Five Americans,
The Moody Blues,
Toni Rubio,
Bill Wells,
Can,
Theoretical Girls,
Buzzcocks,
Bobby Sherman,
Lucky Dragons,
Negative Approach,
The Red Krayola,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.