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 Palau and from Madrid.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
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 Sarah Menescal to the techno 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 Barrington Levy. All the underground hits.
All Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Clarke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Schoolly D,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Masters at Work,
Stetsasonic,
Thee Headcoats,
Isaac Hayes,
Faraquet,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Mr. Review,
The Music Machine,
Brothers Johnson,
Bob Dylan,
The Searchers,
Donny Hathaway,
Roxette,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Make Up,
Toni Rubio,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Fat Boys,
Camberwell Now,
Archie Shepp,
the Human League,
Urselle,
Altered Images,
The Remains,
The Smiths,
Thompson Twins,
Kayak,
The Zeros,
Bluetip,
Aaron Thompson,
The Real Kids,
Monolake,
Fugazi,
Kaleidoscope,
Scott Walker,
Trumans Water,
Saccharine Trust,
Henry Cow,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ohio Players,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Stiv Bators,
Reuben Wilson,
Ronan,
Minor Threat,
Erasure,
Sun Ra,
OOIOO,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Saints,
David Axelrod,
The Last Poets,
Funkadelic,
kango's stein massive,
Simply Red,
Black Sheep,
Warsaw,
Malaria!,
Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day.
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.