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 Israel and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 Delhi and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 synthesizer 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 Sexual Harrassment to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Charles Mingus. All the underground hits.
All Agent Orange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chrome record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Lynne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mummies,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Supertramp,
Porter Ricks,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Standells,
Traffic Nightmare,
Can,
Ralphi Rosario,
June Days,
Das Ding,
Sam Rivers,
Tears for Fears,
Jacob Miller,
Pulsallama,
Lalo Schifrin,
Heaven 17,
a-ha,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Joe Smooth,
Black Flag,
ABBA,
Jesper Dahlback,
D'Angelo,
The Busters,
Monolake,
One Last Wish,
Arcadia,
Reagan Youth,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Patti Smith,
Siglo XX,
Aaron Thompson,
Pantaleimon,
Mars,
Dennis Brown,
Barry Ungar,
Gastr Del Sol,
Laurel Aitken,
David Bowie,
Frankie Knuckles,
Livin' Joy,
The Durutti Column,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Wasted Youth,
Joy Division,
Negative Approach,
Lou Christie,
Warren Ellis,
Lungfish,
Moebius,
Bill Wells,
Chrome,
Pussy Galore,
Intrusion,
Scan 7,
Nas,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Mo-Dettes,
The Fugs,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.