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 Antigua and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Young Rascals to the dance 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 Cecil Taylor. All the underground hits.
All Blake Baxter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Silicon Teens 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kaleidoscope record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Model 500,
Little Man,
The Fire Engines,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Vogues,
The Gladiators,
The Moleskins,
John Foxx,
Smog,
Agent Orange,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Amazonics,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Ultra Naté,
Aural Exciters,
Severed Heads,
T.S.O.L.,
Thompson Twins,
Althea and Donna,
The Searchers,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
48th St. Collective,
Kerrie Biddell,
Zapp,
Man Parrish,
The Names,
Blake Baxter,
Warren Ellis,
Chris Corsano,
June of 44,
Sugar Minott,
Tears for Fears,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Blackbyrds,
Glenn Branca,
Charles Mingus,
Tommy Roe,
A Flock of Seagulls,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bobby Hutcherson,
the Soft Cell,
Gichy Dan,
The Smiths,
Sam Rivers,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
EPMD,
Marvin Gaye,
Black Bananas,
Wasted Youth,
Minutemen,
Urselle,
Sonny Sharrock,
Wings,
Robert Hood,
Theoretical Girls,
Wire,
MDC,
Khruangbin,
Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis.
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.