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 Georgia and from Woodstock.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 harpsichord 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 Nick Fraelich to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Human League. All the underground hits.
All Gichy Dan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blake Baxter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fortunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
Darondo,
Ten City,
Ornette Coleman,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Gabor Szabo,
Underground Resistance,
The Selecter,
Crime,
Los Fastidios,
The Dead C,
Ronnie Foster,
Bobby Sherman,
the Soft Cell,
Public Enemy,
Ultra Naté,
Donny Hathaway,
Dave Gahan,
Lou Reed,
Kerri Chandler,
The Grass Roots,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Rites of Spring,
Marshall Jefferson,
Heaven 17,
Chris & Cosey,
The Stooges,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The New Christs,
Marine Girls,
Average White Band,
John Coltrane,
Terry Callier,
China Crisis,
Drive Like Jehu,
Harry Pussy,
Bronski Beat,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Kenny Larkin,
Sixth Finger,
Neil Young,
Lebanon Hanover,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Sound,
The Five Americans,
Spoonie Gee,
Hardrive,
Agitation Free,
Surgeon,
Crooked Eye,
The Fugs,
Barry Ungar,
Cluster,
Faust,
Pussy Galore,
The Walker Brothers,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Icehouse,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Marcia Griffiths,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.