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 Marshall Islands and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Winnipeg.
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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the snare 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 Tommy Roe to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Jesper Dahlbäck. All the underground hits.
All Saccharine Trust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funky Four + One 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sparks,
Robert Görl,
Donny Hathaway,
Joe Finger,
Quantec,
48th St. Collective,
Joe Smooth,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Banda Bassotti,
Icehouse,
Fluxion,
Man Parrish,
Gang Green,
The Slits,
Pole,
Roxette,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Trojans,
Nick Fraelich,
DJ Sneak,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Avey Tare,
Donald Byrd,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Japan,
Skarface,
Loose Ends,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Last Poets,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Essential Logic,
The Motions,
X-101,
Faust,
Tubeway Army,
Sam Rivers,
Mr. Review,
Joensuu 1685,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bizarre Inc.,
Anakelly,
Spandau Ballet,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bobby Womack,
David Axelrod,
B.T. Express,
Index,
The Index,
Bluetip,
The Move,
The Skatalites,
Gang Starr,
Crispy Ambulance,
Niagra,
Erykah Badu,
DNA,
Pierre Henry,
Public Enemy,
Swell Maps,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.