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 Laos and from Delhi.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the 808 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 Nik Kershaw to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Curtis Mayfield record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soul II Soul,
The Slits,
Agent Orange,
Parry Music,
Au Pairs,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Funky Four + One,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Q and Not U,
The Blues Magoos,
Godley & Creme,
Clear Light,
Rufus Thomas,
Anakelly,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Charles Mingus,
Nas,
The Last Poets,
Electric Prunes,
F. McDonald,
Al Stewart,
Alton Ellis,
The Gladiators,
Jeru the Damaja,
MDC,
The American Breed,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Rekid,
Yellowson,
Sister Nancy,
The Moody Blues,
The Tremeloes,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Cybotron,
Joe Smooth,
Camberwell Now,
Quando Quango,
Tim Buckley,
Gabor Szabo,
Desert Stars,
Davy DMX,
Black Pus,
The Move,
48th St. Collective,
Bad Manners,
Fifty Foot Hose,
D'Angelo,
Throbbing Gristle,
Althea and Donna,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Soft Machine,
Derrick Morgan,
Isaac Hayes,
Gregory Isaacs,
Radiohead,
Marshall Jefferson,
Porter Ricks,
Camouflage,
Sexual Harrassment,
Absolute Body Control,
Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green.
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.