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 Suriname and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 rhodes 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 Pylon to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Nik Kershaw. All the underground hits.
All Robert Hood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Enemy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Divine Comedy,
Aaron Thompson,
Deepchord,
Don Cherry,
The Flesh Eaters,
the Fania All-Stars,
Simply Red,
Youth Brigade,
the Soft Cell,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Litter,
Janne Schatter,
Lalo Schifrin,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
EPMD,
Fatback Band,
The Monks,
Bill Wells,
Glambeats Corp.,
Soft Machine,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Toasters,
Magma,
Harry Pussy,
The Selecter,
The Skatalites,
Aloha Tigers,
Dawn Penn,
The Evens,
Pulsallama,
The Electric Prunes,
La Düsseldorf,
UT,
Howard Jones,
Intrusion,
Jacob Miller,
Buzzcocks,
Warsaw,
Minnie Riperton,
The Tremeloes,
Bad Manners,
The Martian,
Hardrive,
In Retrospect,
Can,
Sparks,
Sarah Menescal,
Accadde A,
The Searchers,
Peter & Gordon,
Black Flag,
Brick,
Lou Christie,
The Dead C,
Angry Samoans,
Cymande,
Jimmy McGriff,
PIL,
Marine Girls,
Maleditus Sound,
Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan.
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.