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 Guinea and from Mexico City.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Liaisons Dangereuses to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 48th St. Collective. All the underground hits.
All Moebius tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxy Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Smog,
D'Angelo,
JFA,
The Detroit Cobras,
Niagra,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sun Ra,
David Bowie,
Anakelly,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Kas Product,
Freddie Wadling,
Nation of Ulysses,
Stereo Dub,
Roxette,
Technova,
Tres Demented,
Public Enemy,
Terry Callier,
Marshall Jefferson,
R.M.O.,
Fad Gadget,
Franke,
ABBA,
Flamin' Groovies,
the Human League,
Half Japanese,
Quando Quango,
One Last Wish,
Metal Thangz,
Subhumans,
the Sonics,
Man Eating Sloth,
Oblivians,
Funkadelic,
Anthony Braxton,
Pantaleimon,
Fela Kuti,
Inner City,
X-102,
Scratch Acid,
Stiv Bators,
Au Pairs,
Wolf Eyes,
the Normal,
Cybotron,
Ornette Coleman,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Goldenarms,
Black Sheep,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Flipper,
Tubeway Army,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Electric Prunes,
Depeche Mode,
the Swans,
Robert Görl,
Drive Like Jehu,
Minny Pops,
Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound.
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.