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 Uzbekistan and from Copenhagen.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Spokane.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Main Source to the grime 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 Gories. All the underground hits.
All Howard Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Soft Cell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arab on Radar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sun City Girls,
The Fire Engines,
Blancmange,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
F. McDonald,
Nils Olav,
Ituana,
Blake Baxter,
Tropical Tobacco,
Zero Boys,
Harry Pussy,
Shuggie Otis,
Chris Corsano,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ralphi Rosario,
Nas,
Dave Gahan,
Amon Düül,
Radio Birdman,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Brass Construction,
Joensuu 1685,
The Smiths,
John Holt,
The Dirtbombs,
Josef K,
Country Teasers,
Intrusion,
Mission of Burma,
Kas Product,
Essential Logic,
Depeche Mode,
Junior Murvin,
Isaac Hayes,
Los Fastidios,
The Barracudas,
Roy Ayers,
Jerry's Kids,
Marshall Jefferson,
Accadde A,
Theoretical Girls,
Technova,
Robert Hood,
Crispian St. Peters,
David Bowie,
Pantaleimon,
E-Dancer,
Aaron Thompson,
The Tremeloes,
The J.B.'s,
The Fall,
Bizarre Inc.,
Arab on Radar,
The Durutti Column,
John Cale,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Lower 48,
Kayak,
Alice Coltrane,
Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke.
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.