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 Belize and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 marimba 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 Be Bop Deluxe to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Curtis Mayfield. All the underground hits.
All Public Image Ltd. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gregory Isaacs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monochrome Set record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fire Engines,
Sixth Finger,
Henry Cow,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Kevin Saunderson,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Kayak,
The Smiths,
Kurtis Blow,
a-ha,
Public Image Ltd.,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sam Rivers,
Warsaw,
Juan Atkins,
Cheater Slicks,
Bobby Byrd,
Mission of Burma,
Icehouse,
Wolf Eyes,
Liliput,
Kas Product,
Harry Pussy,
Massinfluence,
John Coltrane,
The Velvet Underground,
Severed Heads,
Ken Boothe,
The Beau Brummels,
MC5,
The Fugs,
The United States of America,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Saccharine Trust,
In Retrospect,
the Swans,
Roxette,
Motorama,
X-101,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Scratch Acid,
Gong,
Scion,
Eurythmics,
Gang of Four,
Peter and Kerry,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sun City Girls,
The Electric Prunes,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Tropical Tobacco,
T. Rex,
Oneida,
H. Thieme,
Oblivians,
The Pretty Things,
Soulsonic Force,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Harpers Bizarre,
Vladislav Delay,
Q65, Q65, Q65, Q65.
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.