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 Nauru 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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Johannesburg.
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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo 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 Yusef Lateef. All the underground hits.
All James White and The Blacks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alphaville 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
Lou Christie,
Henry Cow,
cv313,
Peter & Gordon,
The Slits,
Crash Course in Science,
Minor Threat,
Boz Scaggs,
Nico,
Vainqueur,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sandy B,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Grey Daturas,
June of 44,
Siglo XX,
Icehouse,
Faraquet,
Kevin Saunderson,
Monks,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Slackers,
Howard Jones,
K-Klass,
Matthew Halsall,
A Certain Ratio,
Crispian St. Peters,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Cameo,
The Knickerbockers,
The Martian,
Gang Starr,
Bang On A Can,
Dennis Brown,
The Dave Clark Five,
Khruangbin,
F. McDonald,
Adolescents,
The Happenings,
The Associates,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Hoover,
The Young Rascals,
Groovy Waters,
Marmalade,
Eric B and Rakim,
Jesper Dahlback,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Real Kids,
Sight & Sound,
These Immortal Souls,
Nils Olav,
Godley & Creme,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Modern Lovers,
Pere Ubu,
Crooked Eye,
John Lydon,
Minutemen,
Goldenarms,
The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines.
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.