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 Venezuela and from Shanghai.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Absolute Body Control to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Half Japanese. All the underground hits.
All Terrestrial Tones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lindisfarne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nico,
The Techniques,
Theoretical Girls,
Model 500,
Rakim,
The Gun Club,
Supertramp,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Tommy Roe,
Marmalade,
The Slits,
Bill Near,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lebanon Hanover,
LL Cool J,
The Velvet Underground,
Porter Ricks,
Al Stewart,
David Axelrod,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lalo Schifrin,
Outsiders,
Minnie Riperton,
Bobby Byrd,
Charles Mingus,
Index,
OOIOO,
Lee Hazlewood,
Crispy Ambulance,
the Fania All-Stars,
Blossom Toes,
The Gap Band,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Scrapy,
X-101,
Kaleidoscope,
the Swans,
Erykah Badu,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Skriet,
Prince Buster,
Tim Buckley,
Guru Guru,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
B.T. Express,
June of 44,
Jacob Miller,
Lou Christie,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Black Dice,
Roy Ayers,
Crime,
Neu!,
DJ Sneak,
Cheater Slicks,
Yellowson,
Babytalk,
Hasil Adkins,
Flipper,
The Young Rascals,
The Fuzztones,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.