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 Tuvalu and from Jakarta.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Vaughan Mason & Crew. All the underground hits.
All Funkadelic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gong record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marvin Gaye,
Icehouse,
A Certain Ratio,
Crispian St. Peters,
Essential Logic,
Echospace,
Sexual Harrassment,
Juan Atkins,
Outsiders,
Avey Tare,
Tears for Fears,
Public Image Ltd.,
Agent Orange,
The Slits,
Hot Snakes,
Arthur Verocai,
Roger Hodgson,
Sun Ra,
Mandrill,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Pylon,
The Pop Group,
Electric Prunes,
Drive Like Jehu,
Deepchord,
The Flesh Eaters,
Accadde A,
Alphaville,
Japan,
Pantaleimon,
Nils Olav,
Magazine,
Unrelated Segments,
the Normal,
Scion,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
8 Eyed Spy,
Guru Guru,
Glambeats Corp.,
Judy Mowatt,
Kas Product,
Bush Tetras,
Jeru the Damaja,
Aural Exciters,
Kaleidoscope,
Piero Umiliani,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Skarface,
Maleditus Sound,
Gang Starr,
Crime,
Black Moon,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Evens,
Pussy Galore,
Iggy Pop,
Terrestrial Tones,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.