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 Grenada and from Spokane.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 The Trojans to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All Brand Nubian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
Agent Orange,
Alice Coltrane,
Animal Collective,
Main Source,
The Five Americans,
The Beau Brummels,
Skarface,
Minny Pops,
The Residents,
Pet Shop Boys,
Henry Cow,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
John Holt,
Aural Exciters,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Isaac Hayes,
8 Eyed Spy,
Dennis Brown,
Little Man,
Sparks,
Mark Hollis,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bobby Byrd,
Kerri Chandler,
Spandau Ballet,
The Alarm Clocks,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Searchers,
The Star Department,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Monochrome Set,
The Electric Prunes,
Lou Reed,
Rapeman,
Rekid,
Toni Rubio,
Sight & Sound,
The Wake,
Susan Cadogan,
Jacob Miller,
Eric Dolphy,
Brass Construction,
The Happenings,
Guru Guru,
Mandrill,
Gang Starr,
Shoche,
Harry Pussy,
The Vogues,
Pantaleimon,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Brick,
Leonard Cohen,
Bobby Sherman,
EPMD,
Excepter,
Eddi Front,
In Retrospect,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Oblivians,
Harpers Bizarre,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine.
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.