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 Fiji and from Copenhagen.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
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 Reuben Wilson to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 New York Dolls. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bush Tetras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Isaac Hayes,
Jacques Brel,
Funkadelic,
The Last Poets,
Barbara Tucker,
Fela Kuti,
Monks,
Oneida,
Howard Jones,
Black Moon,
Excepter,
Animal Collective,
Tim Buckley,
DJ Sneak,
CMW,
Cluster,
Terry Callier,
E-Dancer,
Country Teasers,
Audionom,
The Residents,
The Leaves,
Ronan,
The Offenders,
Juan Atkins,
Dead Boys,
Pylon,
Traffic Nightmare,
Hardrive,
One Last Wish,
Davy DMX,
Lakeside,
Joyce Sims,
Radiohead,
Severed Heads,
Rod Modell,
The Saints,
Whodini,
Franke,
Al Stewart,
the Soft Cell,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lou Christie,
The Count Five,
Rekid,
Terrestrial Tones,
Anthony Braxton,
Lucky Dragons,
Youth Brigade,
June Days,
AZ,
The Vogues,
Eric Copeland,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Spandau Ballet,
Blake Baxter,
Camouflage,
Slick Rick,
The Slits,
Boredoms,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Red Krayola,
The Star Department,
China Crisis,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap.
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.