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 Somalia and from Paris.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 the Bar-Kays. All the underground hits.
All Cymande tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris Corsano 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hashim,
Tim Buckley,
Gang of Four,
Easy Going,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Icehouse,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bronski Beat,
the Bar-Kays,
Fugazi,
Animal Collective,
Liliput,
David Axelrod,
The Techniques,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Tres Demented,
Depeche Mode,
Godley & Creme,
Gil Scott Heron,
Dead Boys,
Laurel Aitken,
Marshall Jefferson,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Soul II Soul,
Amon Düül II,
KRS-One,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Nas,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Tremeloes,
The Remains,
Siglo XX,
Black Flag,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Blues Magoos,
Mission of Burma,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Spoonie Gee,
the Sonics,
Kurtis Blow,
T.S.O.L.,
Eurythmics,
Bluetip,
Accadde A,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Pussy Galore,
The Vogues,
Tom Boy,
Joensuu 1685,
The Walker Brothers,
Chris & Cosey,
F. McDonald,
Infiniti,
Tropical Tobacco,
Rotary Connection,
ABC,
Magma,
Barrington Levy,
Porter Ricks,
Urselle,
Brand Nubian,
Q65,
Clear Light,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.