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 Tajikistan 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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 oboe 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 Barry Ungar to the disco 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 June Days. All the underground hits.
All Make Up tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marmalade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Hood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Divine Comedy,
T. Rex,
the Association,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Shadows of Knight,
Bad Manners,
Niagra,
Robert Görl,
La Düsseldorf,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Litter,
The Evens,
Gong,
Guru Guru,
Fear,
New Order,
Mantronix,
Mr. Review,
Bush Tetras,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Can,
Amon Düül,
The Grass Roots,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ice-T,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Masters at Work,
The Human League,
The Fire Engines,
Thompson Twins,
Grauzone,
Deakin,
Marc Almond,
Y Pants,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pet Shop Boys,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Sexual Harrassment,
Stetsasonic,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Gories,
Eli Mardock,
Matthew Halsall,
Eric B and Rakim,
Model 500,
Leonard Cohen,
Eden Ahbez,
The Dirtbombs,
Bang On A Can,
Goldenarms,
Funkadelic,
Cecil Taylor,
Alphaville,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Moleskins,
Agitation Free,
Minny Pops,
Babytalk,
The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds.
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.