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 Israel and from Tokyo.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All Parry Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Malaria! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
The Last Poets,
Nik Kershaw,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Altered Images,
Yusef Lateef,
Darondo,
Monks,
Bang On A Can,
Ten City,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
CMW,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Junior Murvin,
The Velvet Underground,
The Human League,
Lucky Dragons,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Curtis Mayfield,
Magazine,
James White and The Blacks,
Anthony Braxton,
Excepter,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Talk Talk,
Joensuu 1685,
D'Angelo,
the Bar-Kays,
Aloha Tigers,
Fear,
Nick Fraelich,
Grauzone,
Roxette,
Stockholm Monsters,
Zero Boys,
Gerry Rafferty,
Depeche Mode,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Motions,
Bizarre Inc.,
Trumans Water,
The Zeros,
John Cale,
Bad Manners,
Tres Demented,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Public Enemy,
The Leaves,
Simply Red,
Franke,
Technova,
Cybotron,
The Pop Group,
Black Flag,
Bootsy Collins,
Ralphi Rosario,
KRS-One,
The Skatalites,
Gang of Four,
Lee Hazlewood,
Arthur Verocai,
This Heat,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.