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 Angola and from Sao Paulo.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Godley & Creme to the grime 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 Jacques Brel. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Osbourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Babytalk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a D'Angelo 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?
The Divine Comedy,
Marcia Griffiths,
Simply Red,
Scott Walker,
Steve Hackett,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Raincoats,
Black Bananas,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
FM Einheit,
Model 500,
Arab on Radar,
Inner City,
Bootsy Collins,
The Sonics,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Ralphi Rosario,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
8 Eyed Spy,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bad Manners,
Ituana,
Joe Smooth,
the Germs,
The Knickerbockers,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Grey Daturas,
Monks,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
H. Thieme,
Skarface,
Con Funk Shun,
Stetsasonic,
Nico,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Deadbeat,
John Cale,
EPMD,
The Walker Brothers,
Kas Product,
The New Christs,
Minor Threat,
Loose Ends,
Ponytail,
Unwound,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Flamin' Groovies,
Supertramp,
Alice Coltrane,
Whodini,
Q and Not U,
Blossom Toes,
Pantaleimon,
Marc Almond,
Lakeside,
John Lydon,
Al Stewart,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
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.