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 Algeria and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 Copenhagen and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 sitar 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 Pole to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme. All the underground hits.
All Girls At Our Best! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a World's Most record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Animal Collective,
The Gun Club,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Franke,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Neon Judgement,
Kerri Chandler,
Matthew Halsall,
Crispy Ambulance,
Moss Icon,
The Birthday Party,
Qualms,
the Swans,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Thee Headcoats,
Morten Harket,
Dawn Penn,
Gong,
Von Mondo,
Erasure,
The Dead C,
The Mojo Men,
Soul Sonic Force,
UT,
Minor Threat,
Janne Schatter,
Japan,
E-Dancer,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Barrington Levy,
Dave Gahan,
Stetsasonic,
Steve Hackett,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bluetip,
Hot Snakes,
Marshall Jefferson,
Supertramp,
Y Pants,
Ossler,
Kaleidoscope,
The Alarm Clocks,
Angry Samoans,
Bang On A Can,
David Bowie,
The Smoke,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Trumans Water,
John Lydon,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Audionom,
Hardrive,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Minutemen,
Bauhaus,
Black Flag,
The Monks,
Gang Green,
Siglo XX,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Warren Ellis,
Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood.
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.