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 Nicaragua and from Shanghai.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Crooked Eye to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Image Ltd. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Desert Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 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?
Jacques Brel,
Panda Bear,
Essential Logic,
Sister Nancy,
10cc,
Bad Manners,
The Slackers,
Brothers Johnson,
The Buckinghams,
Supertramp,
Ronnie Foster,
A Certain Ratio,
The Searchers,
Pagans,
The Selecter,
Index,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Fatback Band,
Niagra,
Gil Scott Heron,
Deakin,
the Germs,
The Black Dice,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Dead C,
Scratch Acid,
The Residents,
Faraquet,
Thompson Twins,
Lyres,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The American Breed,
Roxette,
Pet Shop Boys,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Mojo Men,
John Lydon,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Dark Day,
John Holt,
Eric Dolphy,
B.T. Express,
Moby Grape,
X-101,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Trojans,
Boredoms,
The Tremeloes,
Massinfluence,
Man Eating Sloth,
Alphaville,
Sight & Sound,
The Angels of Light,
Grandmaster Flash,
Lakeside,
Dead Boys,
Tubeway Army,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Nirvana,
R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O..
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.