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 Solomon Islands and from Johannesburg.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Count Five to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Country Joe & The Fish. All the underground hits.
All Radio Birdman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Basic Channel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Five Americans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lower 48,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Blake Baxter,
Eurythmics,
Niagra,
LL Cool J,
Technova,
Tomorrow,
MC5,
Sight & Sound,
Whodini,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Cal Tjader,
Fort Wilson Riot,
New Age Steppers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Alarm Clocks,
Wasted Youth,
The Smoke,
Porter Ricks,
Tommy Roe,
The Modern Lovers,
The Young Rascals,
David Bowie,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Essential Logic,
Loose Ends,
Fad Gadget,
Drexciya,
Harry Pussy,
David Axelrod,
The Star Department,
Robert Görl,
The Victims,
Fluxion,
Minnie Riperton,
Magma,
Bluetip,
Moebius,
Cymande,
Pantytec,
X-102,
Grauzone,
the Human League,
Scion,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Warsaw,
The Kinks,
Sixth Finger,
Boz Scaggs,
Faust,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bang On A Can,
Eric Copeland,
These Immortal Souls,
Animal Collective,
Fear,
John Foxx,
Easy Going,
Sparks,
Michelle Simonal,
Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic.
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.