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 Romania and from Hong Kong.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 spring reverb 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 Amazonics to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Graham Central Station. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Louis and Bebe Barron 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deakin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacques Brel,
Niagra,
Eric Dolphy,
Sandy B,
The Invisible,
Moby Grape,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Qualms,
Crooked Eye,
Television,
David McCallum,
The Kinks,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Lou Christie,
Kerrie Biddell,
Theoretical Girls,
Bob Dylan,
Glenn Branca,
Donny Hathaway,
Ronnie Foster,
Marvin Gaye,
The Vogues,
Howard Jones,
John Coltrane,
KRS-One,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Spoonie Gee,
Liliput,
H. Thieme,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Shoche,
Albert Ayler,
T. Rex,
The Fire Engines,
Circle Jerks,
Wolf Eyes,
Curtis Mayfield,
Severed Heads,
Glambeats Corp.,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Little Man,
Isaac Hayes,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Easy Going,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Technova,
Sun City Girls,
Skriet,
Freddie Wadling,
Roxette,
Adolescents,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Crispian St. Peters,
Marcia Griffiths,
Nas,
Connie Case,
Second Layer,
Mark Hollis,
James White and The Blacks,
Kayak,
Letta Mbulu,
Monks,
Magazine,
Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies.
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.