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 Tuvalu and from Beijing.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
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 Archie Shepp to the dance 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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All Archie Shepp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Last Poets record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mandrill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Iggy Pop,
Scan 7,
Saccharine Trust,
Deadbeat,
Anthony Braxton,
Gang Gang Dance,
Scientists,
Joyce Sims,
Frankie Knuckles,
Harry Pussy,
Byron Stingily,
Grauzone,
Boz Scaggs,
Essential Logic,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Tres Demented,
The Divine Comedy,
Lyres,
Mr. Review,
Black Bananas,
Roy Ayers,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Matthew Bourne,
Interpol,
Hardrive,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Oneida,
Jerry Gold Smith,
ABBA,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
June Days,
Au Pairs,
Oblivians,
Popol Vuh,
Porter Ricks,
Maurizio,
Pagans,
Nirvana,
Absolute Body Control,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Hoover,
kango's stein massive,
Young Marble Giants,
Circle Jerks,
Al Stewart,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Von Mondo,
Eric Dolphy,
a-ha,
The Grass Roots,
Bill Wells,
The Slits,
Bad Manners,
Hasil Adkins,
Johnny Osbourne,
Eddi Front,
Freddie Wadling,
Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback.
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.