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 Ethiopia and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 arpeggiator 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 Judy Mowatt to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yusef Lateef 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Royal Trux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Barrington Levy,
the Human League,
Roxette,
Silicon Teens,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Althea and Donna,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Darondo,
The Gories,
The Stooges,
KRS-One,
Mark Hollis,
Marine Girls,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Fad Gadget,
Babytalk,
L. Decosne,
The Pretty Things,
Section 25,
Jerry's Kids,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Peter and Kerry,
Inner City,
Talk Talk,
Kerri Chandler,
Scott Walker,
Shoche,
Eddi Front,
Pole,
David Bowie,
Kool Moe Dee,
Donny Hathaway,
The Leaves,
Mars,
Patti Smith,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Quando Quango,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
La Düsseldorf,
Bush Tetras,
Skaos,
Cymande,
This Heat,
The Dave Clark Five,
Ludus,
Joe Finger,
Radio Birdman,
Soft Cell,
Deakin,
Qualms,
Tubeway Army,
The Tremeloes,
The Offenders,
Public Image Ltd.,
Liliput,
Popol Vuh,
Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane.
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.