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 Albania and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 The Happenings to the rap 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 Con Funk Shun. All the underground hits.
All Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter & Gordon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rosa Yemen,
Rotary Connection,
Maurizio,
Curtis Mayfield,
Rufus Thomas,
Joy Division,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Duran Duran,
The Moody Blues,
the Swans,
Byron Stingily,
Robert Wyatt,
L. Decosne,
Brass Construction,
Gang Gang Dance,
Ice-T,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
CMW,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Slick Rick,
The Black Dice,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bauhaus,
June of 44,
Silicon Teens,
Barclay James Harvest,
Graham Central Station,
Man Parrish,
Sound Behaviour,
Boredoms,
The Invisible,
The Count Five,
The Selecter,
Mark Hollis,
Skarface,
Metal Thangz,
Crispian St. Peters,
Wasted Youth,
Accadde A,
the Germs,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lou Reed,
Bluetip,
Dead Boys,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Absolute Body Control,
The Doobie Brothers,
Neil Young,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Eurythmics,
The Kinks,
Kurtis Blow,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bill Wells,
Jimmy McGriff,
Stereo Dub,
Yellowson,
The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground.
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.