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 Singapore and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Terry Callier to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Jerry Gold Smith. All the underground hits.
All Man Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry Gold Smith,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Index,
Saccharine Trust,
Essential Logic,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Busters,
June of 44,
The Monochrome Set,
the Swans,
The Count Five,
Jerry's Kids,
The Vogues,
Youth Brigade,
Masters at Work,
Ludus,
Flipper,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Tremeloes,
Gang of Four,
The Real Kids,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Grey Daturas,
The Beau Brummels,
Marcia Griffiths,
kango's stein massive,
Desert Stars,
Alton Ellis,
Nirvana,
Susan Cadogan,
MC5,
Main Source,
Groovy Waters,
Eurythmics,
Inner City,
Crispian St. Peters,
48th St. Collective,
Theoretical Girls,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Moleskins,
Alice Coltrane,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Mo-Dettes,
Cymande,
The Leaves,
Joey Negro,
Eric Dolphy,
Jandek,
Infiniti,
Sex Pistols,
Jawbox,
Ornette Coleman,
The Fire Engines,
Terry Callier,
Sandy B,
Donald Byrd,
Lee Hazlewood,
KRS-One,
Black Pus,
Peter & Gordon,
Kayak,
Erasure, Erasure, Erasure, Erasure.
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.