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 Poland and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 rap 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 Eric Dolphy. All the underground hits.
All E-Dancer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young & Crazy Horse 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Idris Muhammad record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monolake,
Mary Jane Girls,
Marcia Griffiths,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ornette Coleman,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Bauhaus,
Scan 7,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Eric Copeland,
The Electric Prunes,
Gabor Szabo,
Roger Hodgson,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bill Near,
Lightning Bolt,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Jeff Lynne,
Suicide,
Anakelly,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Blues Magoos,
L. Decosne,
Khruangbin,
Radiohead,
Pierre Henry,
The American Breed,
Derrick Morgan,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Country Teasers,
Trumans Water,
Young Marble Giants,
Soul Sonic Force,
Ponytail,
One Last Wish,
The Human League,
Swans,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Can,
Al Stewart,
Brothers Johnson,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Deepchord,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Television Personalities,
Banda Bassotti,
Pagans,
Icehouse,
The Five Americans,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Symarip,
Stockholm Monsters,
Easy Going,
Dennis Brown,
Sonny Sharrock,
Newcleus,
The Standells,
The Black Dice,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
the Association,
Guru Guru,
Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul.
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.