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 Kyrgyzstan and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Tropical Tobacco to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Bobby Byrd. All the underground hits.
All Parry Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boz Scaggs 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a OOIOO record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slave,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Slick Rick,
Kaleidoscope,
The Martian,
Bizarre Inc.,
the Soft Cell,
Todd Terry,
The Fall,
Mission of Burma,
Banda Bassotti,
Rosa Yemen,
Zero Boys,
Wings,
John Holt,
Oneida,
The Dave Clark Five,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Count Five,
Al Stewart,
Black Sheep,
Malaria!,
Pantaleimon,
Radio Birdman,
Dorothy Ashby,
Roger Hodgson,
Sandy B,
LL Cool J,
Kurtis Blow,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Cecil Taylor,
Juan Atkins,
Joyce Sims,
Section 25,
Sister Nancy,
Thompson Twins,
X-Ray Spex,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Liliput,
The Modern Lovers,
T.S.O.L.,
Niagra,
Harry Pussy,
Eurythmics,
Massinfluence,
Accadde A,
The Neon Judgement,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Surgeon,
Skarface,
Matthew Halsall,
The American Breed,
Arthur Verocai,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Scott Walker,
Mad Mike,
Yaz,
Pagans,
The Victims,
Chris Corsano,
The Knickerbockers,
Icehouse,
Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock.
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.