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 Korea North 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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Supertramp to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Desert Stars. All the underground hits.
All Chris Corsano tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Green,
Fugazi,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Fluxion,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Trojans,
Tom Boy,
Mad Mike,
Dennis Brown,
Kurtis Blow,
Throbbing Gristle,
Desert Stars,
James White and The Blacks,
Banda Bassotti,
Animal Collective,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Monks,
Lucky Dragons,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
kango's stein massive,
The Zeros,
Colin Newman,
Marvin Gaye,
Amazonics,
Flipper,
Kenny Larkin,
8 Eyed Spy,
Crooked Eye,
K-Klass,
Sonny Sharrock,
Eric Copeland,
Cecil Taylor,
Drive Like Jehu,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Mars,
Todd Terry,
The Golliwogs,
Anakelly,
Jerry's Kids,
Arab on Radar,
Qualms,
Maurizio,
Gang of Four,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Angry Samoans,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Harry Pussy,
Joy Division,
Derrick Morgan,
Stiv Bators,
The Doobie Brothers,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Moody Blues,
Girls At Our Best!,
Rod Modell,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Barclay James Harvest,
Harpers Bizarre,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Marc Almond,
Sister Nancy,
Nico,
The Doors, The Doors, The Doors, The Doors.
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.