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 Brunei and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Scratch Acid to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Au Pairs. All the underground hits.
All Stiv Bators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Theoretical Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Schoolly D,
The Moleskins,
JFA,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Dead Boys,
Soft Cell,
Aloha Tigers,
Marine Girls,
Al Stewart,
These Immortal Souls,
X-102,
Suburban Knight,
Dawn Penn,
Kool Moe Dee,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
John Foxx,
Zapp,
Roxette,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Slackers,
Surgeon,
Eric Copeland,
Swans,
Lou Christie,
John Coltrane,
Stiv Bators,
Masters at Work,
Nils Olav,
Drexciya,
H. Thieme,
Ten City,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bootsy Collins,
Rekid,
Pantaleimon,
Tommy Roe,
Marvin Gaye,
The Fortunes,
Marc Almond,
In Retrospect,
Brothers Johnson,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Peter and Kerry,
Kevin Saunderson,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Anakelly,
Donald Byrd,
Jesper Dahlback,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Alice Coltrane,
Banda Bassotti,
CMW,
X-101,
Barclay James Harvest,
Easy Going,
Altered Images,
Lebanon Hanover,
Underground Resistance,
Dark Day,
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.