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 Paris.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Kaleidoscope. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Basic Channel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a CMW record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gastr Del Sol,
Black Flag,
Babytalk,
Ken Boothe,
The Knickerbockers,
The Martian,
Quando Quango,
Boz Scaggs,
Masters at Work,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Moebius,
FM Einheit,
Glambeats Corp.,
Juan Atkins,
Barry Ungar,
Mark Hollis,
Big Daddy Kane,
Minnie Riperton,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Zeros,
The Happenings,
Roger Hodgson,
Arab on Radar,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Red Krayola,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Doors,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Kurtis Blow,
Television Personalities,
the Normal,
Boredoms,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Black Moon,
The Gap Band,
Howard Jones,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Robert Görl,
Youth Brigade,
Dark Day,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Roy Ayers,
a-ha,
Maleditus Sound,
Gil Scott Heron,
DJ Style,
Bizarre Inc.,
Pussy Galore,
The Leaves,
Dead Boys,
The Gun Club,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Grey Daturas,
James White and The Blacks,
Urselle,
The Monks,
Khruangbin,
Quadrant,
Pylon,
Rites of Spring,
DJ Sneak,
The Black Dice,
Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock.
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.