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 China and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 linndrum 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 Donny Hathaway to the techno 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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All Make Up tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sällskapet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes 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?
U.S. Maple,
Cecil Taylor,
The Gladiators,
Amon Düül,
The Techniques,
Soft Cell,
Shoche,
Q65,
Kerri Chandler,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Donny Hathaway,
the Slits,
Pylon,
Chrome,
The Blackbyrds,
Von Mondo,
The Trojans,
Moby Grape,
X-Ray Spex,
Black Pus,
Bill Wells,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Sonics,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
LL Cool J,
The American Breed,
Sandy B,
Smog,
Accadde A,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Slick Rick,
Ralphi Rosario,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Wally Richardson,
Barclay James Harvest,
Anakelly,
Suburban Knight,
Little Man,
Scrapy,
Arthur Verocai,
Subhumans,
Cymande,
Robert Wyatt,
Hashim,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Deepchord,
Chris & Cosey,
Rapeman,
Jacob Miller,
Ituana,
Liliput,
MDC,
The Fire Engines,
Rekid,
Bush Tetras,
Can,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Kaleidoscope,
Bill Near,
Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach.
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.