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 Bangladesh and from Edmonton.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 John Cale. All the underground hits.
All Aural Exciters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Bar-Kays record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lee Hazlewood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Music Machine,
Pierre Henry,
Basic Channel,
In Retrospect,
The Star Department,
Absolute Body Control,
X-Ray Spex,
Bob Dylan,
Spoonie Gee,
Unwound,
The Young Rascals,
Young Marble Giants,
Matthew Bourne,
kango's stein massive,
Au Pairs,
Barrington Levy,
Youth Brigade,
Chris Corsano,
Alison Limerick,
Todd Rundgren,
Avey Tare,
Heaven 17,
The Detroit Cobras,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Blackbyrds,
Derrick Morgan,
Arab on Radar,
Joe Smooth,
Crispian St. Peters,
Hot Snakes,
Connie Case,
Eric Copeland,
James White and The Blacks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Birthday Party,
Marc Almond,
Minutemen,
Darondo,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Aloha Tigers,
Lindisfarne,
Eric B and Rakim,
Index,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Tres Demented,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Public Enemy,
Depeche Mode,
Hoover,
Ice-T,
Henry Cow,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Iggy Pop,
Popol Vuh,
Urselle,
Dead Boys,
The Associates,
Neil Young,
Radiopuhelimet,
Lightning Bolt,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Slits,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.