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 Dominican Republic and from Taipei.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Desert Stars to the rock 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 Althea and Donna. All the underground hits.
All Jimmy McGriff tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Judy Mowatt 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Association record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
L. Decosne,
The Monochrome Set,
Thee Headcoats,
Whodini,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kurtis Blow,
OOIOO,
Accadde A,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
EPMD,
The Motions,
Crispy Ambulance,
Tommy Roe,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Joyce Sims,
Boz Scaggs,
Terry Callier,
Sound Behaviour,
The Grass Roots,
Bill Near,
FM Einheit,
Young Marble Giants,
Terrestrial Tones,
Flash Fearless,
Jandek,
UT,
Wolf Eyes,
The Litter,
Mandrill,
Archie Shepp,
The Remains,
Althea and Donna,
The Birthday Party,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Moody Blues,
Deepchord,
Donny Hathaway,
The Last Poets,
Sun Ra,
Lungfish,
Crooked Eye,
Mars,
Nils Olav,
Black Bananas,
Peter & Gordon,
June of 44,
Cluster,
Radiopuhelimet,
Black Pus,
The Modern Lovers,
Matthew Bourne,
The Neon Judgement,
the Bar-Kays,
Delon & Dalcan,
Michelle Simonal,
Mo-Dettes,
A Certain Ratio,
the Sonics,
The Leaves,
Skarface,
Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music.
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.