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 Slovakia and from Seoul.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Bologna.
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 clarinet 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the punk 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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All The J.B.'s tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Urselle record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Major Organ And The Adding Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ken Boothe,
Neu!,
Eden Ahbez,
Lungfish,
Bobby Womack,
Sixth Finger,
Gang of Four,
Kas Product,
Simply Red,
Cluster,
The Electric Prunes,
Livin' Joy,
Depeche Mode,
Zero Boys,
Sandy B,
the Germs,
Pierre Henry,
Kool Moe Dee,
Amon Düül II,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Eric Dolphy,
Crispian St. Peters,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bobby Sherman,
In Retrospect,
X-101,
X-102,
Skriet,
John Lydon,
Joensuu 1685,
Procol Harum,
Toni Rubio,
The Trojans,
Scan 7,
Interpol,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Pop Group,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Faraquet,
Index,
Marvin Gaye,
Agent Orange,
China Crisis,
Alison Limerick,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Fatback Band,
Mark Hollis,
New Order,
Lindisfarne,
Man Parrish,
Soft Cell,
Mad Mike,
Echospace,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Buckinghams,
The Slackers,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes.
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.