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 Latvia and from Houston.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Glasgow.
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 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 David Bowie 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 Subhumans to the grunge 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 Pagans. All the underground hits.
All The Cosmic Jokers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review 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 an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grauzone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Groovy Waters,
The Neon Judgement,
Wasted Youth,
Technova,
B.T. Express,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Scion,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Hashim,
Oblivians,
Juan Atkins,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Malaria!,
The Detroit Cobras,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Kool Moe Dee,
Tres Demented,
Ultravox,
Index,
Wally Richardson,
Public Enemy,
Brothers Johnson,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Stiv Bators,
Q and Not U,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
June Days,
The Fall,
Smog,
Surgeon,
The Move,
Rites of Spring,
Funky Four + One,
Flash Fearless,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
DJ Style,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Chrome,
Ash Ra Tempel,
New York Dolls,
UT,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Happenings,
Quando Quango,
Chris & Cosey,
Carl Craig,
The Modern Lovers,
Dorothy Ashby,
L. Decosne,
T.S.O.L.,
Sister Nancy,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Byron Stingily,
Nirvana,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Kurtis Blow,
Barbara Tucker,
Neil Young,
Clear Light,
Johnny Osbourne,
R.M.O.,
Sound Behaviour,
Marmalade,
Ralphi Rosario,
These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls.
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.