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 Costa Rica and from Taipei.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Crispian St. Peters to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 F. McDonald. All the underground hits.
All ABBA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Fraelich record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Normal record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donald Byrd,
the Fania All-Stars,
Roxy Music,
The Fugs,
The Doobie Brothers,
Vladislav Delay,
Joyce Sims,
Moss Icon,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Velvet Underground,
The Alarm Clocks,
Porter Ricks,
Byron Stingily,
Mad Mike,
Heaven 17,
Gil Scott Heron,
Faraquet,
The Remains,
The Vogues,
10cc,
Y Pants,
Lungfish,
Gerry Rafferty,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Mission of Burma,
Spoonie Gee,
Niagra,
The Move,
Subhumans,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
ABBA,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Rites of Spring,
Arthur Verocai,
Rosa Yemen,
The Shadows of Knight,
One Last Wish,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
OOIOO,
Amon Düül,
X-101,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Althea and Donna,
Dark Day,
The Human League,
Lalo Schifrin,
Theoretical Girls,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Young Rascals,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bluetip,
New Order,
Swell Maps,
8 Eyed Spy,
Dead Boys,
Terry Callier,
Jacques Brel,
a-ha,
Robert Hood,
Deakin, Deakin, Deakin, Deakin.
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.