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 Samoa and from Beijing.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Jesper Dahlback to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Roger Hodgson. All the underground hits.
All Lou Christie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Selector Dub Narcotic 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eurythmics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Invisible,
Yazoo,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Accadde A,
Tom Boy,
Au Pairs,
Funky Four + One,
Kool Moe Dee,
10cc,
The Martian,
Minny Pops,
The Cramps,
The Saints,
Mo-Dettes,
Bootsy Collins,
Animal Collective,
Cabaret Voltaire,
June of 44,
The J.B.'s,
Gastr Del Sol,
Ultravox,
Glambeats Corp.,
Terrestrial Tones,
Electric Prunes,
Excepter,
Kayak,
Siglo XX,
Qualms,
James White and The Blacks,
Rufus Thomas,
The Kinks,
Ornette Coleman,
F. McDonald,
Andrew Hill,
Ronan,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sandy B,
Angry Samoans,
the Slits,
Drive Like Jehu,
OOIOO,
Cameo,
Moby Grape,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Juan Atkins,
Niagra,
Tres Demented,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sex Pistols,
cv313,
Mission of Burma,
The Knickerbockers,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lou Reed,
The Divine Comedy,
Scott Walker,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Matthew Halsall,
Newcleus,
Eric Dolphy,
Black Pus,
Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro.
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.