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 Denmark and from Hong Kong.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Young Rascals to the dance 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 Jerry's Kids. All the underground hits.
All The Dave Clark Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pylon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott Heron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultra Naté,
Ituana,
F. McDonald,
The Blackbyrds,
The Dirtbombs,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Andrew Hill,
Panda Bear,
Y Pants,
Skarface,
The Mummies,
Amon Düül,
Aural Exciters,
The Moleskins,
Tomorrow,
Spandau Ballet,
Suburban Knight,
David Axelrod,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Zeros,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Brand Nubian,
Interpol,
The Names,
Can,
Darondo,
Porter Ricks,
Connie Case,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Stiv Bators,
Metal Thangz,
DJ Style,
June of 44,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Boz Scaggs,
The Alarm Clocks,
Mad Mike,
Slick Rick,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Chris Corsano,
Marc Almond,
Boogie Down Productions,
Pagans,
Crispian St. Peters,
X-Ray Spex,
Royal Trux,
DNA,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Anakelly,
Underground Resistance,
Matthew Bourne,
Ken Boothe,
The Modern Lovers,
Johnny Clarke,
Lindisfarne,
K-Klass,
Lee Hazlewood,
Arthur Verocai,
Average White Band,
Bang On A Can,
Magma,
Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring.
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.