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 Honduras and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Y Pants to the disco 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 Steve Hackett. All the underground hits.
All The Trojans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grandmaster Flash record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Duran Duran,
The Residents,
Gabor Szabo,
Kerrie Biddell,
June Days,
Black Sheep,
China Crisis,
Country Teasers,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Pere Ubu,
The Five Americans,
The Offenders,
Television Personalities,
Sam Rivers,
Nik Kershaw,
Flipper,
The Moody Blues,
The Music Machine,
Jawbox,
Visage,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Count Five,
Babytalk,
Jacob Miller,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Girls At Our Best!,
Royal Trux,
Tropical Tobacco,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Bang On A Can,
Monolake,
Oblivians,
D'Angelo,
Aural Exciters,
Wolf Eyes,
Eddi Front,
The Barracudas,
The Shadows of Knight,
Freddie Wadling,
Ohio Players,
Traffic Nightmare,
Pagans,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Dirtbombs,
Newcleus,
The Victims,
The J.B.'s,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Skatalites,
Roger Hodgson,
Henry Cow,
Boredoms,
Harry Pussy,
Soul II Soul,
Pet Shop Boys,
Alice Coltrane,
Soft Cell,
Moby Grape,
These Immortal Souls,
The Dead C,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red.
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.