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 Eritrea and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Rites of Spring to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Lebanon Hanover. All the underground hits.
All The Move tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T.S.O.L. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gerry Rafferty record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Victims,
Lindisfarne,
Rufus Thomas,
Visage,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lalo Schifrin,
Q and Not U,
John Coltrane,
This Heat,
Camouflage,
AZ,
Technova,
Nas,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Gerry Rafferty,
Easy Going,
The Electric Prunes,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Litter,
The Sound,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Isaac Hayes,
E-Dancer,
Steve Hackett,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Inner City,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Matthew Halsall,
L. Decosne,
Gregory Isaacs,
Los Fastidios,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sun City Girls,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Television Personalities,
The Dirtbombs,
The Zeros,
Bronski Beat,
Eden Ahbez,
Pere Ubu,
The Move,
Todd Terry,
ABBA,
Bobby Sherman,
Bobby Byrd,
Marcia Griffiths,
Nick Fraelich,
Pulsallama,
Tears for Fears,
the Association,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Blackbyrds,
Maurizio,
Roxette,
Blossom Toes,
Goldenarms,
Minny Pops,
Junior Murvin,
Sarah Menescal,
Mr. Review,
Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant.
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.