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 Denmark and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 harpsichord 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 Sarah Menescal to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Dorothy Ashby. All the underground hits.
All Fluxion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cameo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Offenders,
R.M.O.,
the Association,
Soft Cell,
Marshall Jefferson,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bronski Beat,
The Slackers,
Wolf Eyes,
Rapeman,
The Buckinghams,
AZ,
Crispy Ambulance,
Fela Kuti,
Graham Central Station,
The Misunderstood,
The Alarm Clocks,
the Slits,
The Young Rascals,
The Dead C,
Stetsasonic,
Hot Snakes,
Motorama,
Porter Ricks,
Sandy B,
Vladislav Delay,
Big Daddy Kane,
Scrapy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
La Düsseldorf,
Susan Cadogan,
Los Fastidios,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Fear,
Kayak,
the Germs,
Supertramp,
John Lydon,
The Dave Clark Five,
Howard Jones,
FM Einheit,
Shoche,
Cymande,
Danielle Patucci,
Spoonie Gee,
cv313,
Scion,
Bad Manners,
Japan,
David Bowie,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Monochrome Set,
Half Japanese,
Loose Ends,
Sam Rivers,
Thee Headcoats,
Sex Pistols,
The J.B.'s,
Warsaw,
Lower 48,
Wings,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.