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 El Salvador and from Calgary.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 synthesizer 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 Saccharine Trust to the disco 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 Count Five. All the underground hits.
All Bobbi Humphrey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moody Blues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minny Pops record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sonny Sharrock,
Funkadelic,
Eric B and Rakim,
Japan,
Lou Christie,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Johnny Osbourne,
CMW,
Joey Negro,
Duran Duran,
Lakeside,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Black Bananas,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Gang Starr,
Johnny Clarke,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Unwound,
Jeff Lynne,
Wolf Eyes,
Spandau Ballet,
Aloha Tigers,
Section 25,
Flipper,
D'Angelo,
The United States of America,
Gabor Szabo,
Boredoms,
Moss Icon,
Simply Red,
Ultra Naté,
Janne Schatter,
Marc Almond,
Groovy Waters,
Connie Case,
Khruangbin,
The Techniques,
The Knickerbockers,
Stetsasonic,
Yazoo,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bad Manners,
Radio Birdman,
Masters at Work,
Godley & Creme,
Trumans Water,
John Lydon,
The Blues Magoos,
Al Stewart,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Gil Scott Heron,
Y Pants,
Technova,
Pussy Galore,
the Swans,
Alphaville,
Minutemen,
Intrusion,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Prince Buster,
Young Marble Giants,
Pantaleimon,
Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes.
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.