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 Namibia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the marimba 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 The Techniques to the jazz 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 Gerry Rafferty. All the underground hits.
All Derrick Morgan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Divine Comedy 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 clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Surgeon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Quantec,
Tomorrow,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Colin Newman,
Gong,
X-102,
Angry Samoans,
Man Parrish,
The Dead C,
Glenn Branca,
The Slits,
Eve St. Jones,
Isaac Hayes,
Kaleidoscope,
The Kinks,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Drive Like Jehu,
Jawbox,
Lou Christie,
Whodini,
L. Decosne,
Q and Not U,
Morten Harket,
The Pretty Things,
Grey Daturas,
Tubeway Army,
Khruangbin,
Cameo,
Moby Grape,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Royal Trux,
Dead Boys,
Joe Finger,
Surgeon,
Pole,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sugar Minott,
The Smoke,
World's Most,
Roger Hodgson,
Jesper Dahlback,
Alison Limerick,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Con Funk Shun,
Stiv Bators,
the Germs,
Radio Birdman,
The Dave Clark Five,
Television,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ludus,
Hardrive,
Radiohead,
Lyres,
The Selecter,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Lucky Dragons,
The Gories,
The Real Kids,
Harry Pussy,
Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry.
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.