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 Ghana and from Stockholm.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Minny Pops to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Kerrie Biddell. All the underground hits.
All Juan Atkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wally Richardson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Monks,
Fad Gadget,
Arab on Radar,
Severed Heads,
The Flesh Eaters,
Boogie Down Productions,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Wake,
Ten City,
Joy Division,
Reagan Youth,
Scion,
Suburban Knight,
Barbara Tucker,
Altered Images,
DJ Sneak,
The Red Krayola,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Newcleus,
Moss Icon,
Au Pairs,
Joey Negro,
Soft Machine,
The Vogues,
Alice Coltrane,
ABC,
Monolake,
Whodini,
Radiopuhelimet,
Los Fastidios,
The Leaves,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Outsiders,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Flash Fearless,
John Coltrane,
Roger Hodgson,
Barrington Levy,
Von Mondo,
Hardrive,
Alphaville,
Archie Shepp,
Q65,
The Fall,
Gang of Four,
Mo-Dettes,
Scientists,
The Mojo Men,
MDC,
Wolf Eyes,
Rhythm & Sound,
Das Ding,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Unrelated Segments,
Technova,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Knickerbockers,
Steve Hackett,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters.
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.