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 Greece and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 arpeggiator 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 Max Romeo to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 the Germs. All the underground hits.
All June of 44 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Subhumans 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tres Demented record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crash Course in Science,
Oblivians,
David McCallum,
Franke,
The Zeros,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Crime,
The Grass Roots,
The Velvet Underground,
Kerri Chandler,
Graham Central Station,
Deakin,
Pharoah Sanders,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Spoonie Gee,
Rites of Spring,
Brass Construction,
John Lydon,
Slick Rick,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gong,
E-Dancer,
the Slits,
Television Personalities,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Colin Newman,
Outsiders,
Jeff Lynne,
Easy Going,
ABBA,
Angry Samoans,
Grandmaster Flash,
Dorothy Ashby,
Jerry Gold Smith,
James White and The Blacks,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Supertramp,
Rod Modell,
Tim Buckley,
Blancmange,
Freddie Wadling,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Buzzcocks,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Eli Mardock,
Surgeon,
Monks,
Shuggie Otis,
The Monks,
Laurel Aitken,
Joy Division,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Parry Music,
Harry Pussy,
Suburban Knight,
The Associates,
Johnny Clarke,
Sex Pistols,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Rosa Yemen,
Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack.
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.