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 Marshall Islands and from Houston.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Tim Buckley to the jazz 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 Hardrive. All the underground hits.
All Colin Newman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sixth Finger,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Names,
Ludus,
Sandy B,
Darondo,
The Cowsills,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Blake Baxter,
The Mummies,
Saccharine Trust,
the Soft Cell,
Glenn Branca,
Josef K,
Ten City,
Black Moon,
Inner City,
Tres Demented,
Eric Dolphy,
The Flesh Eaters,
Albert Ayler,
Bootsy Collins,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Qualms,
Rhythm & Sound,
Peter & Gordon,
Judy Mowatt,
The Fire Engines,
Drive Like Jehu,
Liliput,
Kool Moe Dee,
Rekid,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Jesper Dahlback,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bauhaus,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Pop Group,
Main Source,
Lou Christie,
T. Rex,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Slave,
Mad Mike,
T.S.O.L.,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Aloha Tigers,
Sarah Menescal,
Loose Ends,
X-101,
Country Teasers,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Searchers,
The Trojans,
The Buckinghams,
Y Pants,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Cramps,
Peter and Kerry,
Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science.
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.