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 Montenegro and from Calgary.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 ABBA to the disco 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 Gregory Isaacs. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anakelly record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doobie Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sister Nancy,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lindisfarne,
Quadrant,
Black Moon,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Newcleus,
Joy Division,
Malaria!,
Warren Ellis,
The United States of America,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Litter,
The Real Kids,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Interpol,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Henry Cow,
Fluxion,
The Sound,
Motorama,
Bluetip,
Saccharine Trust,
Tubeway Army,
La Düsseldorf,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
John Coltrane,
Yellowson,
The Kinks,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Basic Channel,
Gang Green,
Jacob Miller,
The Velvet Underground,
Monks,
John Holt,
Nils Olav,
Electric Prunes,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lyres,
Grey Daturas,
The Fugs,
Angry Samoans,
Darondo,
Bill Wells,
Chris & Cosey,
ABBA,
Sandy B,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
OOIOO,
Circle Jerks,
Joensuu 1685,
Stiv Bators,
Arab on Radar,
Black Bananas,
Barbara Tucker,
June of 44,
Bob Dylan,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson.
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.