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 Italy and from Accra.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 organ 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 Iggy Pop to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Slits. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nik Kershaw,
Eric B and Rakim,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Animal Collective,
Bobby Sherman,
Jeff Lynne,
Flipper,
Kerrie Biddell,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Loose Ends,
The Music Machine,
Lungfish,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Reuben Wilson,
The Modern Lovers,
David Axelrod,
Eve St. Jones,
Roxette,
L. Decosne,
Whodini,
The Moody Blues,
Popol Vuh,
The Remains,
The Invisible,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bill Near,
Interpol,
Lee Hazlewood,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Cramps,
Bob Dylan,
The Red Krayola,
Dead Boys,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Terry Callier,
Toni Rubio,
The Walker Brothers,
8 Eyed Spy,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Agitation Free,
The Toasters,
Urselle,
Babytalk,
This Heat,
Moss Icon,
the Slits,
Laurel Aitken,
Oneida,
Sparks,
Letta Mbulu,
Pantytec,
Cameo,
Barclay James Harvest,
Soul Sonic Force,
Robert Wyatt,
Amazonics,
The Litter,
The Gladiators,
Kas Product,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Lyres,
Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins.
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.