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 Zimbabwe and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Delhi.
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 rhodes 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 Bizarre Inc. to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 This Heat. All the underground hits.
All Procol Harum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camouflage record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kayak,
Accadde A,
John Coltrane,
B.T. Express,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bauhaus,
Lyres,
Jeff Mills,
Scion,
Ralphi Rosario,
Vladislav Delay,
Carl Craig,
Black Pus,
The Shadows of Knight,
JFA,
Mars,
Steve Hackett,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Marshall Jefferson,
Eden Ahbez,
Judy Mowatt,
Jimmy McGriff,
Aaron Thompson,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Agent Orange,
Liliput,
Flipper,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sparks,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Gil Scott Heron,
Malaria!,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lungfish,
Pole,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Saccharine Trust,
Sound Behaviour,
Mission of Burma,
Monolake,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Barclay James Harvest,
Faust,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Yellowson,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Pantaleimon,
Warsaw,
Wally Richardson,
Junior Murvin,
Ohio Players,
Supertramp,
Quadrant,
Country Teasers,
Smog,
Severed Heads,
John Foxx,
The Fortunes,
Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy.
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.