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 Swaziland and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Men They Couldn't Hang to the punk 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 Cal Tjader. All the underground hits.
All Con Funk Shun tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Japan 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Gerry Rafferty,
Hardrive,
the Bar-Kays,
Boz Scaggs,
FM Einheit,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Ronnie Foster,
Negative Approach,
8 Eyed Spy,
Jerry Gold Smith,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Slick Rick,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Zeros,
Flamin' Groovies,
Mo-Dettes,
Jerry's Kids,
Kaleidoscope,
Mission of Burma,
Heaven 17,
Au Pairs,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Deadbeat,
PIL,
The Skatalites,
Rites of Spring,
Pussy Galore,
Scrapy,
David Bowie,
June of 44,
Rakim,
John Cale,
Barry Ungar,
Johnny Osbourne,
Derrick Morgan,
China Crisis,
Jawbox,
The Evens,
Quadrant,
Scratch Acid,
Pole,
Sixth Finger,
Gang Starr,
Parry Music,
Scan 7,
Jeff Mills,
Nation of Ulysses,
Q65,
The Cure,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Procol Harum,
Television,
the Normal,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Country Teasers,
Technova,
Neil Young,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Camouflage,
Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario.
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.