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 Malta and from Copenhagen.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
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 Royal Trux to the punk 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 Arcadia. All the underground hits.
All The J.B.'s tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thompson Twins 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mission of Burma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Harmonia,
Newcleus,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Birthday Party,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Durutti Column,
The Toasters,
Trumans Water,
The Sound,
Half Japanese,
Aural Exciters,
Infiniti,
the Bar-Kays,
Joe Finger,
Aswad,
Cymande,
Ultimate Spinach,
Pulsallama,
The Fall,
Tim Buckley,
Godley & Creme,
the Normal,
The Misunderstood,
Gang of Four,
The American Breed,
Mr. Review,
The Walker Brothers,
Flipper,
Steve Hackett,
Tomorrow,
Jandek,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Minnie Riperton,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Crispy Ambulance,
Boredoms,
Idris Muhammad,
The Cramps,
Monks,
The Fuzztones,
Groovy Waters,
Hardrive,
The Martian,
KRS-One,
Roger Hodgson,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Zeros,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Moody Blues,
Lungfish,
Crash Course in Science,
Franke,
The Skatalites,
Rites of Spring,
Arthur Verocai,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
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.