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 Uganda and from Spokane.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 David Bowie 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 Eurythmics to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Toasters. All the underground hits.
All Deakin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harpers Bizarre record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jerry Gold Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ice-T,
Mad Mike,
The Shadows of Knight,
Grauzone,
Nik Kershaw,
The Last Poets,
Harry Pussy,
The Durutti Column,
Sight & Sound,
Parry Music,
Al Stewart,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bob Dylan,
Masters at Work,
The Raincoats,
Roxy Music,
Archie Shepp,
Vainqueur,
AZ,
Eve St. Jones,
Scrapy,
H. Thieme,
Easy Going,
The Litter,
Gang of Four,
Arcadia,
Idris Muhammad,
Soft Machine,
Q65,
Prince Buster,
Gil Scott Heron,
Gang Gang Dance,
Television Personalities,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Newcleus,
Thee Headcoats,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Divine Comedy,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Stooges,
Judy Mowatt,
Albert Ayler,
kango's stein massive,
Soulsonic Force,
Section 25,
The Motions,
Moby Grape,
Lalann,
The Tremeloes,
Sällskapet,
Livin' Joy,
Boredoms,
Essential Logic,
James White and The Blacks,
The Leaves,
Fad Gadget,
Harmonia,
The Skatalites,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Wally Richardson,
Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon.
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.