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 San Marino and from Woodstock.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 linndrum 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 Crispian St. Peters to the rap 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 Gang Starr. All the underground hits.
All Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joey Negro record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Visage,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Reagan Youth,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
T.S.O.L.,
Darondo,
Lebanon Hanover,
Swell Maps,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sixth Finger,
Gabor Szabo,
Todd Rundgren,
Animal Collective,
Joensuu 1685,
Angry Samoans,
Fugazi,
Eric B and Rakim,
Half Japanese,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Residents,
Rites of Spring,
The Human League,
David Bowie,
The United States of America,
David McCallum,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Accadde A,
A Certain Ratio,
Chris Corsano,
Lalann,
Bobby Sherman,
Crooked Eye,
Los Fastidios,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sun City Girls,
Kaleidoscope,
Organ,
Blossom Toes,
Bobby Byrd,
Circle Jerks,
Patti Smith,
Desert Stars,
Bootsy Collins,
Rotary Connection,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Andrew Hill,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bob Dylan,
Camberwell Now,
R.M.O.,
Malaria!,
Heaven 17,
The Red Krayola,
The Barracudas,
Duran Duran,
Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya.
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.