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 Bhutan and from Madrid.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Lagos.
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 arpeggiator 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 Mad Mike to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Move. All the underground hits.
All Pharoah Sanders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gories record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a One Last Wish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Depeche Mode,
Sarah Menescal,
Gerry Rafferty,
Cybotron,
The Star Department,
Ultra Naté,
The Birthday Party,
Franke,
Electric Prunes,
Reuben Wilson,
The Slackers,
Intrusion,
Smog,
Susan Cadogan,
X-101,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Gories,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Dirtbombs,
The Flesh Eaters,
48th St. Collective,
Q65,
Amazonics,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The United States of America,
The Monks,
Hashim,
Al Stewart,
Rosa Yemen,
Johnny Clarke,
Stetsasonic,
New Age Steppers,
Excepter,
Rod Modell,
Iggy Pop,
Terry Callier,
X-102,
The Zeros,
X-Ray Spex,
Hardrive,
Main Source,
The Music Machine,
Rapeman,
Johnny Osbourne,
Infiniti,
Cameo,
Archie Shepp,
Joy Division,
David Bowie,
Bobby Sherman,
Minutemen,
Spandau Ballet,
Darondo,
The Kinks,
Tres Demented,
Scientists,
Fela Kuti,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Crooked Eye,
Agitation Free,
Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends.
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.