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 Solomon Islands and from Bologna.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Star Department to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Marvin Gaye. All the underground hits.
All Rites of Spring tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David McCallum record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Bowie,
Nils Olav,
Bobby Womack,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Aaron Thompson,
Joe Finger,
Chrome,
Scrapy,
Carl Craig,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Youth Brigade,
Lou Reed,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ice-T,
Aural Exciters,
Boz Scaggs,
ABBA,
Lindisfarne,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
the Association,
Mr. Review,
Sugar Minott,
Sight & Sound,
DJ Sneak,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sex Pistols,
Model 500,
The Smoke,
Duran Duran,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
John Coltrane,
Hardrive,
Funkadelic,
Newcleus,
Porter Ricks,
Rapeman,
Mary Jane Girls,
Connie Case,
The Five Americans,
The Seeds,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bush Tetras,
Jacob Miller,
Avey Tare,
Zero Boys,
Gang of Four,
The New Christs,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Japan,
Drive Like Jehu,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Monochrome Set,
Infiniti,
Gil Scott Heron,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Red Krayola,
Rotary Connection,
Grauzone,
8 Eyed Spy,
Grey Daturas,
Deepchord,
The Dirtbombs,
Bluetip,
E-Dancer,
The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes.
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.