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 Togo and from New York.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Lou Christie to the rap 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 Cabaret Voltaire. All the underground hits.
All The Martian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Excepter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terror Squad Feat. Camron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
Arab on Radar,
The Fuzztones,
Eric Dolphy,
Robert Wyatt,
Public Image Ltd.,
Mission of Burma,
Jacques Brel,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Music Machine,
The Move,
Los Fastidios,
Lightning Bolt,
Throbbing Gristle,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Hashim,
The Divine Comedy,
L. Decosne,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Scott Walker,
Kerri Chandler,
Maurizio,
Bronski Beat,
Archie Shepp,
Todd Terry,
Susan Cadogan,
Jimmy McGriff,
Alton Ellis,
The Gun Club,
John Coltrane,
Qualms,
Livin' Joy,
Jerry's Kids,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Dorothy Ashby,
La Düsseldorf,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Trumans Water,
The Monochrome Set,
The Doobie Brothers,
Kas Product,
H. Thieme,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Crispian St. Peters,
Amon Düül,
The Stooges,
Graham Central Station,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Model 500,
Michelle Simonal,
Echospace,
Nirvana,
Ralphi Rosario,
Barbara Tucker,
Kenny Larkin,
Max Romeo,
Laurel Aitken,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Cecil Taylor,
A Flock of Seagulls,
LL Cool J,
Soul II Soul,
Crime,
The Remains, The Remains, The Remains, The Remains.
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.