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 Bahamas and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 snare 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 The Electric Prunes to the grunge 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 Deadbeat. All the underground hits.
All Piero Umiliani tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Move 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eddi Front,
Gong,
Bang On A Can,
Soulsonic Force,
Barclay James Harvest,
Gang Gang Dance,
Black Sheep,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lightning Bolt,
Idris Muhammad,
Traffic Nightmare,
Model 500,
The United States of America,
Glenn Branca,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Aural Exciters,
Bobby Sherman,
Can,
Electric Prunes,
Harmonia,
Jerry's Kids,
Crime,
Josef K,
Sister Nancy,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Chris Corsano,
Simply Red,
Adolescents,
Henry Cow,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Black Dice,
Sonic Youth,
Derrick May,
The Searchers,
Spandau Ballet,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Pole,
Monks,
Ronan,
Crispian St. Peters,
Babytalk,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Interpol,
Lalann,
Pussy Galore,
Letta Mbulu,
Lou Christie,
John Coltrane,
Das Ding,
Joe Smooth,
Mandrill,
David McCallum,
Metal Thangz,
Royal Trux,
the Normal,
The Raincoats,
Ossler,
Wally Richardson,
The Skatalites,
Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama.
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.