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 Switzerland and from Glasgow.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ 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 The Human League to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Lakeside. All the underground hits.
All Duran Duran tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marmalade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crooked Eye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
Todd Terry,
Mission of Burma,
Soul II Soul,
Pierre Henry,
Grey Daturas,
Roy Ayers,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Big Daddy Kane,
Joe Smooth,
the Fania All-Stars,
Eric B and Rakim,
Roxette,
Smog,
Model 500,
Funkadelic,
Harry Pussy,
Grauzone,
Fat Boys,
Second Layer,
Rakim,
Suicide,
Joyce Sims,
Gichy Dan,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sandy B,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Groovy Waters,
The Victims,
Reagan Youth,
Angry Samoans,
Arab on Radar,
The Buckinghams,
The Detroit Cobras,
Warsaw,
OOIOO,
Eric Copeland,
kango's stein massive,
Banda Bassotti,
Procol Harum,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Intrusion,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Saints,
Public Enemy,
Fluxion,
Theoretical Girls,
The Neon Judgement,
Michelle Simonal,
The Residents,
The Sound,
Henry Cow,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Divine Comedy,
Tropical Tobacco,
Matthew Bourne,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Man Parrish,
The Moody Blues,
Josef K,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Iggy Pop,
Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy.
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.