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 Ecuador and from Lagos.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 mellotron 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 Bluetip to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Warsaw. All the underground hits.
All Crooked Eye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Excepter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quantec,
Gong,
Cal Tjader,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Rapeman,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Rod Modell,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Country Teasers,
Rakim,
The Gladiators,
Kaleidoscope,
The Electric Prunes,
Terrestrial Tones,
Clear Light,
Rekid,
Neu!,
Johnny Clarke,
The Remains,
Public Enemy,
Barry Ungar,
Sällskapet,
The Misunderstood,
The Invisible,
Roxy Music,
Bob Dylan,
8 Eyed Spy,
Minutemen,
Theoretical Girls,
KRS-One,
Kool Moe Dee,
Niagra,
OOIOO,
Grandmaster Flash,
Gang Gang Dance,
Erykah Badu,
Ultravox,
Gang Starr,
Arcadia,
Man Eating Sloth,
Joey Negro,
Pierre Henry,
Erasure,
Television,
Lou Reed,
The Fall,
Pere Ubu,
Essential Logic,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Connie Case,
Stockholm Monsters,
Con Funk Shun,
Rotary Connection,
Massinfluence,
The Flesh Eaters,
T.S.O.L.,
Al Stewart,
Newcleus,
Au Pairs,
Intrusion,
Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck.
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.