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 Syria and from Copenhagen.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the 808 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 Morten Harket to the rap 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 Radiopuhelimet. All the underground hits.
All X-102 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Iggy Pop 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crooked Eye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
AZ,
K-Klass,
Sixth Finger,
Buzzcocks,
Amazonics,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lower 48,
Barry Ungar,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Leaves,
Sparks,
Supertramp,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Real Kids,
Erykah Badu,
Kerri Chandler,
The Electric Prunes,
Nik Kershaw,
Todd Rundgren,
Goldenarms,
Letta Mbulu,
Roxy Music,
Sällskapet,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
X-Ray Spex,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Fall,
Absolute Body Control,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Zeros,
Patti Smith,
Bob Dylan,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Stockholm Monsters,
Swell Maps,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Jacob Miller,
The Kinks,
Quantec,
Das Ding,
the Bar-Kays,
the Normal,
the Slits,
Peter and Kerry,
a-ha,
Nas,
Thee Headcoats,
Dual Sessions,
Black Pus,
Deepchord,
Judy Mowatt,
Ken Boothe,
Icehouse,
Harry Pussy,
Grauzone,
Andrew Hill,
The Flesh Eaters,
DJ Sneak,
These Immortal Souls,
The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department.
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.