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 Peru and from Delhi.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 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 The Associates to the jazz 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 The Dave Clark Five. All the underground hits.
All New Age Steppers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Alarm Clocks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liaisons Dangereuses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sister Nancy,
China Crisis,
Infiniti,
The Golliwogs,
The Dirtbombs,
June Days,
John Lydon,
Cal Tjader,
The Victims,
Sarah Menescal,
Mandrill,
Chris Corsano,
Cymande,
Basic Channel,
Negative Approach,
The Star Department,
Rhythm & Sound,
Anakelly,
Parry Music,
Arcadia,
Harry Pussy,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Monks,
Boredoms,
New Order,
Steve Hackett,
Los Fastidios,
The Names,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
X-Ray Spex,
Althea and Donna,
The Velvet Underground,
Ohio Players,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Amazonics,
Lalann,
Absolute Body Control,
Gang Green,
Heaven 17,
Country Teasers,
Babytalk,
The Angels of Light,
Marc Almond,
CMW,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Outsiders,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
10cc,
Gerry Rafferty,
Tommy Roe,
Gong,
Blossom Toes,
Agitation Free,
The Remains,
The Count Five,
Dark Day,
Nirvana,
Yaz,
The Buckinghams,
Circle Jerks,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.