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 Barbados and from New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Matthew Bourne to the punk 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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-101 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Altered Images,
Echospace,
David McCallum,
Isaac Hayes,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Index,
The Moody Blues,
Faraquet,
Organ,
Rekid,
Sam Rivers,
Funkadelic,
Eve St. Jones,
Jesper Dahlback,
Joey Negro,
Bang On A Can,
Don Cherry,
The Music Machine,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Trojans,
Fatback Band,
Barclay James Harvest,
Minutemen,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Jawbox,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Thee Headcoats,
Amazonics,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Spandau Ballet,
Brothers Johnson,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Stooges,
The Black Dice,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Fall,
Al Stewart,
UT,
Rapeman,
the Human League,
Nils Olav,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Rotary Connection,
X-101,
The Sonics,
Wire,
Leonard Cohen,
Mad Mike,
Agent Orange,
Girls At Our Best!,
Johnny Clarke,
Urselle,
Johnny Osbourne,
Pulsallama,
Cluster,
Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers.
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.