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 Solomon Islands and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the theremin 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 The Litter to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Con Funk Shun. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultra Naté record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rites of Spring record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fuzztones,
Simply Red,
Grauzone,
T.S.O.L.,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Public Image Ltd.,
Japan,
Ken Boothe,
Gerry Rafferty,
Neu!,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Stetsasonic,
The Fire Engines,
the Soft Cell,
Ponytail,
Eurythmics,
Vladislav Delay,
the Slits,
Moby Grape,
The Dead C,
Skarface,
The Walker Brothers,
Eddi Front,
The Red Krayola,
Tomorrow,
Eve St. Jones,
Quando Quango,
The Toasters,
Jimmy McGriff,
A Certain Ratio,
L. Decosne,
Unwound,
Can,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Cramps,
Pierre Henry,
Gang Starr,
Robert Wyatt,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Donny Hathaway,
Cameo,
Sun City Girls,
Cheater Slicks,
Skaos,
Chrome,
Pantytec,
Lightning Bolt,
Crooked Eye,
Michelle Simonal,
Bush Tetras,
Rosa Yemen,
Black Moon,
Ludus,
Television Personalities,
the Bar-Kays,
Rod Modell,
Rapeman,
K-Klass,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Pretty Things,
Lower 48, Lower 48, Lower 48, Lower 48.
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.