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 Uruguay and from Milan.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Iggy Pop to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))). All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every This Heat 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy's Rubber Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
Maleditus Sound,
Parry Music,
Cybotron,
The Blues Magoos,
Public Enemy,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Pere Ubu,
E-Dancer,
U.S. Maple,
Second Layer,
The Golliwogs,
The Slackers,
Joey Negro,
Joe Finger,
Roy Ayers,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Crispian St. Peters,
Jeff Lynne,
DNA,
Johnny Clarke,
Rapeman,
Carl Craig,
Gang Starr,
Sun City Girls,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Terry Callier,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Audionom,
Man Eating Sloth,
Eddi Front,
Minnie Riperton,
The Knickerbockers,
Public Image Ltd.,
Kayak,
Kurtis Blow,
a-ha,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Barrington Levy,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Names,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Kevin Saunderson,
Flipper,
Skarface,
Donny Hathaway,
the Human League,
Eve St. Jones,
Tres Demented,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Trumans Water,
Pussy Galore,
Duran Duran,
Deakin,
Subhumans,
The Fall,
The Buckinghams,
MDC,
UT,
Depeche Mode,
Ituana,
Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith.
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.