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 Slovenia and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 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 Mark Hollis to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience. All the underground hits.
All Television Personalities tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scrapy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Stereo Dub,
Morten Harket,
Angry Samoans,
The Count Five,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Jimmy McGriff,
Siglo XX,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Second Layer,
cv313,
Groovy Waters,
Cymande,
Crispian St. Peters,
10cc,
Althea and Donna,
Amon Düül II,
The Smiths,
The Evens,
Cameo,
Yaz,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Flash Fearless,
Rites of Spring,
The Electric Prunes,
Slick Rick,
Roxette,
Masters at Work,
Mo-Dettes,
Joy Division,
Visage,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Eric Dolphy,
Black Sheep,
Flipper,
Tropical Tobacco,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Scion,
The Barracudas,
Scrapy,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Thee Headcoats,
Minnie Riperton,
The Fuzztones,
Bauhaus,
Ituana,
Magazine,
Crispy Ambulance,
Skarface,
Rod Modell,
Gong,
Wire,
Kayak,
Darondo,
Fugazi,
New York Dolls,
Motorama,
Swell Maps,
Popol Vuh,
Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks.
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.