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 Yemen and from Spokane.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Lalo Schifrin to the techno 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 Sandy B. All the underground hits.
All Deakin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a AZ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
Arthur Verocai,
The Invisible,
The Fortunes,
Henry Cow,
Kerri Chandler,
The Tremeloes,
Sällskapet,
B.T. Express,
David McCallum,
The Raincoats,
Dawn Penn,
The Angels of Light,
Ludus,
Barry Ungar,
The United States of America,
The Dirtbombs,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sparks,
Robert Hood,
DJ Style,
The Dead C,
Godley & Creme,
Marine Girls,
Grandmaster Flash,
Derrick Morgan,
Blancmange,
Althea and Donna,
Archie Shepp,
Ornette Coleman,
Nirvana,
This Heat,
Lou Reed,
Brothers Johnson,
Surgeon,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Negative Approach,
The Doobie Brothers,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lyres,
Circle Jerks,
Boz Scaggs,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Television,
Youth Brigade,
The Standells,
Skarface,
The Misunderstood,
John Cale,
Khruangbin,
New Order,
Lalann,
Dennis Brown,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Danielle Patucci,
The Wake,
Idris Muhammad,
Bang On A Can,
Marmalade,
Traffic Nightmare,
Tommy Roe,
Zapp,
The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers.
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.