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 Bhutan 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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Mandrill to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Slave. All the underground hits.
All The Peanut Butter Conspiracy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brass Construction 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
Wings,
Tubeway Army,
Massinfluence,
Junior Murvin,
The Cramps,
Pierre Henry,
Minnie Riperton,
Swans,
Peter & Gordon,
Ronan,
Animal Collective,
Susan Cadogan,
Alton Ellis,
The Saints,
Tom Boy,
Crash Course in Science,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Zero Boys,
Rekid,
Monolake,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Cecil Taylor,
The Litter,
Althea and Donna,
Scrapy,
Roger Hodgson,
Dual Sessions,
The Zeros,
Brass Construction,
Aural Exciters,
Barry Ungar,
Hot Snakes,
Kool Moe Dee,
John Foxx,
Blancmange,
Gichy Dan,
Bobby Byrd,
Soul II Soul,
Erykah Badu,
Jeff Mills,
Rakim,
Prince Buster,
Henry Cow,
Freddie Wadling,
The Fuzztones,
Bronski Beat,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Deakin,
Lightning Bolt,
Moss Icon,
Tears for Fears,
Icehouse,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
A Certain Ratio,
The Kinks,
Andrew Hill,
Intrusion,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Niagra,
The Misunderstood,
The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels.
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.