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 Austria and from Toronto.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Johnny Osbourne to the jazz 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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anakelly record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Max Romeo,
Funkadelic,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
the Fania All-Stars,
Arthur Verocai,
Minutemen,
Skriet,
Henry Cow,
Althea and Donna,
Sonny Sharrock,
Tears for Fears,
Todd Terry,
Roxy Music,
The Invisible,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Television,
Delon & Dalcan,
Mad Mike,
Main Source,
Minny Pops,
Bang On A Can,
Ohio Players,
Monks,
The Associates,
The Walker Brothers,
Joey Negro,
Ituana,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Count Five,
Connie Case,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Simply Red,
Ice-T,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Erykah Badu,
Nico,
Arcadia,
Marcia Griffiths,
Erasure,
Idris Muhammad,
Magma,
Dennis Brown,
Joyce Sims,
Wings,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Star Department,
Agent Orange,
The Fuzztones,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Stetsasonic,
The Misunderstood,
Blake Baxter,
Make Up,
Albert Ayler,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Blackbyrds,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
T.S.O.L.,
Negative Approach,
Jeru the Damaja,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Youth Brigade,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.