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 Vanuatu and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 harpsichord 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 Mr. Review to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Sunsets and Hearts. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joensuu 1685 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a a-ha record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New York Dolls,
Anakelly,
Tres Demented,
The Names,
The J.B.'s,
Arab on Radar,
Ultravox,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
June Days,
Joe Smooth,
The Evens,
Peter and Kerry,
The Cure,
Idris Muhammad,
48th St. Collective,
The New Christs,
Scrapy,
Supertramp,
Derrick May,
the Bar-Kays,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Metal Thangz,
JFA,
Skaos,
In Retrospect,
The Move,
Michelle Simonal,
Soft Cell,
David Axelrod,
Robert Hood,
This Heat,
Lou Reed,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Jandek,
Aural Exciters,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Martian,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Q and Not U,
MC5,
Funkadelic,
Sight & Sound,
Janne Schatter,
Dawn Penn,
Basic Channel,
Sandy B,
The Alarm Clocks,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Donald Byrd,
The American Breed,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
World's Most,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Fluxion,
Can,
Severed Heads,
Brothers Johnson,
The Saints,
Deadbeat,
Eric B and Rakim,
John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx.
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.