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 Morocco and from London.
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 Milan and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Radio Birdman to the electroclash 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 Tres Demented. All the underground hits.
All Boz Scaggs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Barracudas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eurythmics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Cecil Taylor,
Crooked Eye,
Siglo XX,
Brand Nubian,
The Barracudas,
Saccharine Trust,
Aural Exciters,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bobby Byrd,
Crispian St. Peters,
Chris & Cosey,
The Durutti Column,
Animal Collective,
Black Sheep,
Lyres,
Wolf Eyes,
Alice Coltrane,
The Stooges,
Bobby Womack,
Oblivians,
The Blues Magoos,
Lalo Schifrin,
Marine Girls,
The Detroit Cobras,
Terry Callier,
Adolescents,
The Litter,
Alison Limerick,
Barry Ungar,
Q and Not U,
Gang Green,
Mantronix,
Graham Central Station,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Raincoats,
Connie Case,
Cal Tjader,
Byron Stingily,
Rod Modell,
Schoolly D,
James White and The Blacks,
Robert Hood,
Hot Snakes,
Pussy Galore,
Black Bananas,
Roger Hodgson,
Grandmaster Flash,
Wasted Youth,
OOIOO,
Nick Fraelich,
The Walker Brothers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Eric Copeland,
Cybotron,
A Certain Ratio,
Sound Behaviour,
Khruangbin,
Quadrant,
Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman.
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.