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 Finland and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Alice Coltrane to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All The Real Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fear 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vladislav Delay,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bluetip,
New York Dolls,
Carl Craig,
Laurel Aitken,
The Mighty Diamonds,
10cc,
Main Source,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Suicide,
Leonard Cohen,
Boz Scaggs,
KRS-One,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lindisfarne,
Cheater Slicks,
Sam Rivers,
Lower 48,
The Blues Magoos,
Lucky Dragons,
AZ,
The Alarm Clocks,
Little Man,
Crime,
Albert Ayler,
ABC,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Aaron Thompson,
Flash Fearless,
OOIOO,
Alice Coltrane,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Music Machine,
Oneida,
Porter Ricks,
The Angels of Light,
Bobby Byrd,
Banda Bassotti,
Kevin Saunderson,
Agitation Free,
The Standells,
Aloha Tigers,
The Victims,
Amon Düül II,
Gang Starr,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bootsy Collins,
Negative Approach,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Mummies,
Lebanon Hanover,
Soft Machine,
Marmalade,
Faust,
Simply Red,
Pussy Galore,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids.
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.