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 Japan and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 organ 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 Sonics to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Lou Christie. All the underground hits.
All Y Pants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lee Hazlewood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Japan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Style,
Jawbox,
ABBA,
Q and Not U,
The Misunderstood,
Pulsallama,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Quadrant,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Kurtis Blow,
Tears for Fears,
Dave Gahan,
Mission of Burma,
Steve Hackett,
Magazine,
Desert Stars,
Dual Sessions,
Visage,
Joe Finger,
the Sonics,
Harpers Bizarre,
Kaleidoscope,
Dead Boys,
Qualms,
Black Sheep,
Drexciya,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Al Stewart,
Alice Coltrane,
The Young Rascals,
Pylon,
Piero Umiliani,
Pole,
Duran Duran,
Radiopuhelimet,
Symarip,
Reagan Youth,
Man Eating Sloth,
Harry Pussy,
Charles Mingus,
The Birthday Party,
Althea and Donna,
The Pretty Things,
Malaria!,
The Cowsills,
Con Funk Shun,
The Selecter,
Sam Rivers,
Albert Ayler,
Outsiders,
48th St. Collective,
Terrestrial Tones,
Neil Young,
Donny Hathaway,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Kenny Larkin,
Camouflage,
Bill Near,
Excepter,
Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective.
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.