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 Benin 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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the theremin 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 The Beau Brummels 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 Roxette. All the underground hits.
All Jeru the Damaja tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lonnie Liston Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Fania All-Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Icehouse,
ABC,
Judy Mowatt,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bizarre Inc.,
Parry Music,
Byron Stingily,
Shuggie Otis,
Man Parrish,
Vladislav Delay,
Rhythm & Sound,
Carl Craig,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Little Man,
Rosa Yemen,
The Five Americans,
Q65,
Glambeats Corp.,
Joe Smooth,
T.S.O.L.,
Nas,
Porter Ricks,
H. Thieme,
Marcia Griffiths,
Mary Jane Girls,
Johnny Clarke,
Dark Day,
Donny Hathaway,
Ohio Players,
Adolescents,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Doors,
Ronan,
The Alarm Clocks,
Deepchord,
Kenny Larkin,
Tommy Roe,
The Motions,
Lindisfarne,
Scientists,
John Coltrane,
the Association,
Bootsy Collins,
The Gladiators,
Pet Shop Boys,
Fluxion,
Wolf Eyes,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sällskapet,
Suburban Knight,
The Angels of Light,
Joey Negro,
Talk Talk,
Scott Walker,
B.T. Express,
Wings,
Harry Pussy,
Michelle Simonal,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis.
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.