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 Antigua and from Beijing.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Gregory Isaacs to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Skarface. All the underground hits.
All Tres Demented tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mad Mike,
The Velvet Underground,
the Bar-Kays,
Royal Trux,
Index,
Byron Stingily,
Skaos,
Accadde A,
Rapeman,
Bootsy Collins,
Hardrive,
Youth Brigade,
Blossom Toes,
Popol Vuh,
Nico,
The Victims,
Steve Hackett,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Monks,
Warren Ellis,
Surgeon,
Suburban Knight,
Mark Hollis,
X-Ray Spex,
Brand Nubian,
Swell Maps,
Laurel Aitken,
Barbara Tucker,
Davy DMX,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Moebius,
Gang of Four,
Morten Harket,
Rites of Spring,
Groovy Waters,
Adolescents,
Kevin Saunderson,
Gichy Dan,
Brass Construction,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Massinfluence,
Black Moon,
Aloha Tigers,
Darondo,
Tim Buckley,
Ultravox,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
R.M.O.,
Bobby Byrd,
Heaven 17,
The Pretty Things,
Average White Band,
The Remains,
The Divine Comedy,
The Blackbyrds,
Siglo XX,
The Dead C,
Japan,
Depeche Mode,
Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy.
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.