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 Chile and from Sao Paulo.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar 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 Arcadia to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All The Toasters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Theoretical Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up 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?
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Arab on Radar,
Popol Vuh,
Oblivians,
Q and Not U,
The Black Dice,
Second Layer,
Kenny Larkin,
Spandau Ballet,
Marcia Griffiths,
Absolute Body Control,
Youth Brigade,
New Order,
Warsaw,
Slick Rick,
Robert Hood,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Fluxion,
The Last Poets,
Von Mondo,
The Invisible,
Scratch Acid,
Unwound,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Public Image Ltd.,
Letta Mbulu,
Dead Boys,
Jacques Brel,
kango's stein massive,
Mandrill,
The Slackers,
Nik Kershaw,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Black Flag,
Make Up,
Television Personalities,
Peter and Kerry,
Rufus Thomas,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Evens,
Severed Heads,
Rosa Yemen,
Joe Finger,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Hasil Adkins,
Suicide,
Magma,
Slave,
Terry Callier,
June of 44,
Chris Corsano,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
E-Dancer,
Silicon Teens,
Skaos,
Colin Newman,
Joey Negro,
Talk Talk,
Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra.
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.