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 Uzbekistan and from Calgary.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band to the techno 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 Mad Mike. All the underground hits.
All Ash Ra Tempel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Delon & Dalcan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bob Dylan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Invisible,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Television,
The Dave Clark Five,
Lightning Bolt,
Kerrie Biddell,
Eurythmics,
Surgeon,
Bush Tetras,
Funkadelic,
Andrew Hill,
The Fuzztones,
Skriet,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ludus,
The Angels of Light,
Scott Walker,
Trumans Water,
Leonard Cohen,
John Lydon,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Joy Division,
T. Rex,
Second Layer,
MDC,
Oblivians,
Heaven 17,
The Moody Blues,
Eve St. Jones,
Nils Olav,
PIL,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ultra Naté,
Pulsallama,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Hardrive,
Eric B and Rakim,
Warsaw,
Jimmy McGriff,
These Immortal Souls,
Nico,
Godley & Creme,
Funky Four + One,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sparks,
ABBA,
Whodini,
Quando Quango,
Unwound,
Talk Talk,
Nirvana,
The Pretty Things,
Gichy Dan,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Electric Prunes,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Yellowson,
Yazoo,
Magma,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Byron Stingily,
Rapeman,
Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents.
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.