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 Saudi Arabia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 mellotron 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 Masters at Work to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Funkadelic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fortunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Halsall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare,
Malaria!,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Crispy Ambulance,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Symarip,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Dead C,
Lalann,
These Immortal Souls,
Robert Görl,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Gap Band,
Big Daddy Kane,
Jacques Brel,
The Moleskins,
Traffic Nightmare,
Maurizio,
The Blues Magoos,
Public Image Ltd.,
Subhumans,
Brothers Johnson,
Agent Orange,
Marvin Gaye,
Eli Mardock,
Joensuu 1685,
Rod Modell,
Roger Hodgson,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
the Swans,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Al Stewart,
ABC,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Mummies,
Bang On A Can,
Von Mondo,
Negative Approach,
Popol Vuh,
Warren Ellis,
DNA,
Gabor Szabo,
Maleditus Sound,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Doobie Brothers,
La Düsseldorf,
Minny Pops,
Faraquet,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Dual Sessions,
This Heat,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Associates,
In Retrospect,
Massinfluence,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Royal Trux,
Reuben Wilson,
Deadbeat,
The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills.
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.