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 Serbia 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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the 808 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 Dual Sessions to the grime 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 Rosa Yemen. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Carl Craig record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Morten Harket record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lightning Bolt,
Leonard Cohen,
Deakin,
Fifty Foot Hose,
John Holt,
Terry Callier,
Duran Duran,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Wake,
Donald Byrd,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Los Fastidios,
Skarface,
Organ,
Pussy Galore,
Excepter,
Graham Central Station,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Make Up,
Amazonics,
Hashim,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Motions,
MC5,
Lebanon Hanover,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Niagra,
The Trojans,
Cal Tjader,
Interpol,
Ronan,
Mantronix,
Throbbing Gristle,
Kas Product,
Joyce Sims,
Au Pairs,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Section 25,
The Mummies,
Freddie Wadling,
Moss Icon,
Minny Pops,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
China Crisis,
Depeche Mode,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Brick,
The Cure,
Silicon Teens,
Scan 7,
John Lydon,
D'Angelo,
The Slackers,
Aswad,
Unwound,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Ronnie Foster,
Flipper,
Tomorrow,
the Soft Cell,
Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers.
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.