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 Bangladesh and from Calgary.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 organ 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 Junior Murvin to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Eli Mardock. All the underground hits.
All Groovy Waters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kango’s Stein Massive 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Newcleus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
FM Einheit,
Heaven 17,
Byron Stingily,
ABC,
Monks,
The J.B.'s,
Bobby Sherman,
K-Klass,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Bill Wells,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Neil Young,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Arthur Verocai,
Big Daddy Kane,
Spandau Ballet,
Inner City,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Swell Maps,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Kerri Chandler,
The Stooges,
The Pretty Things,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bang On A Can,
Black Moon,
Aloha Tigers,
Bush Tetras,
DNA,
Dennis Brown,
Alison Limerick,
Severed Heads,
Ronan,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Misunderstood,
Cameo,
The Human League,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Standells,
The Golliwogs,
Sugar Minott,
the Slits,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Zapp,
Jacques Brel,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Don Cherry,
Fat Boys,
Ultravox,
Quantec,
The Happenings,
Interpol,
Hardrive,
Infiniti,
Black Sheep,
Tres Demented,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sun City Girls,
Make Up,
Neu!,
Drexciya,
Mandrill,
Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne.
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.