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 Finland and from Spokane.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 clarinet 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 ABC to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Morten Harket. All the underground hits.
All Joe Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rites of Spring 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aswad record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Interpol,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
the Bar-Kays,
Los Fastidios,
The Cure,
The Five Americans,
Peter & Gordon,
Fela Kuti,
The Victims,
The New Christs,
Spandau Ballet,
Arthur Verocai,
Arab on Radar,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ornette Coleman,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Sound,
Siglo XX,
The Last Poets,
Slave,
Wally Richardson,
The American Breed,
Darondo,
Minor Threat,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ponytail,
Audionom,
Kerri Chandler,
John Cale,
Average White Band,
Harpers Bizarre,
Maurizio,
Eric B and Rakim,
Fugazi,
Reagan Youth,
The Wake,
Accadde A,
the Germs,
Buzzcocks,
Peter and Kerry,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Don Cherry,
The Count Five,
Outsiders,
Todd Rundgren,
The Red Krayola,
Soft Cell,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Hasil Adkins,
Mission of Burma,
Slick Rick,
Nils Olav,
Nation of Ulysses,
Skaos,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Ohio Players,
John Coltrane,
Marc Almond,
The Vogues,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Iggy Pop,
Flipper,
Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk.
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.