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 United States and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 theremin 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 Gabor Szabo to the techno 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 Avey Tare. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Panda Bear record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
Average White Band,
The Barracudas,
Matthew Bourne,
The Blues Magoos,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Isaac Hayes,
Outsiders,
Eve St. Jones,
Tears for Fears,
The Alarm Clocks,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Fela Kuti,
R.M.O.,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Gang Green,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ponytail,
Talk Talk,
Letta Mbulu,
Gang of Four,
Josef K,
Alton Ellis,
Public Enemy,
The Gun Club,
The Mummies,
Los Fastidios,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Loose Ends,
The Mojo Men,
Agent Orange,
Althea and Donna,
Severed Heads,
Mantronix,
Grey Daturas,
Ossler,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
L. Decosne,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Zapp,
Michelle Simonal,
Marine Girls,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Kinks,
Circle Jerks,
The Fortunes,
Mandrill,
Sugar Minott,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Rotary Connection,
Scrapy,
Duran Duran,
The Seeds,
Babytalk,
Yazoo,
kango's stein massive,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Quando Quango,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
the Sonics,
Spandau Ballet,
Robert Hood,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young.
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.