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 Sri Lanka and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 clarinet 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 Gap Band to the crunk 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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All Visage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ten City record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suburban Knight,
Arab on Radar,
Alton Ellis,
Guru Guru,
Jandek,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Monks,
Main Source,
Andrew Hill,
Whodini,
Barbara Tucker,
Shuggie Otis,
Lungfish,
The Litter,
Pet Shop Boys,
the Bar-Kays,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Albert Ayler,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Liliput,
The Gories,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Drive Like Jehu,
Tom Boy,
Kayak,
The J.B.'s,
Fluxion,
The Buckinghams,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bobby Byrd,
Sparks,
Black Pus,
Jacques Brel,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Kenny Larkin,
Judy Mowatt,
Malaria!,
the Fania All-Stars,
Swell Maps,
Boredoms,
Hardrive,
Kaleidoscope,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Lalo Schifrin,
Blossom Toes,
China Crisis,
Thompson Twins,
Faust,
Flamin' Groovies,
Altered Images,
Fat Boys,
Dawn Penn,
The Blues Magoos,
Aaron Thompson,
The Saints,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ohio Players,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Bobby Womack,
Cal Tjader,
Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims.
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.