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 Azerbaijan and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Glasgow.
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 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 Graham Central Station to the electroclash 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 Susan Cadogan. All the underground hits.
All Electric Light Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Hill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minor Threat,
The Mojo Men,
Fad Gadget,
The Red Krayola,
Moss Icon,
Buzzcocks,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Underground Resistance,
Flamin' Groovies,
Surgeon,
JFA,
Harpers Bizarre,
Hashim,
kango's stein massive,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Cheater Slicks,
World's Most,
Minnie Riperton,
The Walker Brothers,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Peter and Kerry,
Fat Boys,
Metal Thangz,
The Gap Band,
The Remains,
Moby Grape,
Bauhaus,
Charles Mingus,
Bill Near,
Gang Starr,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Television Personalities,
Massinfluence,
Kool Moe Dee,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Pole,
Peter & Gordon,
Piero Umiliani,
Ultra Naté,
Adolescents,
The Cramps,
Soul Sonic Force,
Darondo,
Loose Ends,
The Dirtbombs,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Star Department,
The Martian,
Dave Gahan,
MC5,
Lightning Bolt,
Sällskapet,
Young Marble Giants,
The Toasters,
Morten Harket,
Pulsallama,
Tomorrow,
Man Eating Sloth,
Swans,
June of 44,
Banda Bassotti,
Sex Pistols,
Cymande, Cymande, Cymande, Cymande.
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.