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 Honduras and from Lagos.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Rod Modell 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 Darondo. All the underground hits.
All Althea and Donna tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Barracudas 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Womack record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Barracudas,
The Martian,
Robert Wyatt,
A Certain Ratio,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Tres Demented,
Niagra,
Radio Birdman,
Judy Mowatt,
Motorama,
ABBA,
Ponytail,
Pharoah Sanders,
Television Personalities,
The Associates,
Marmalade,
the Human League,
Jacques Brel,
Malaria!,
Unrelated Segments,
Camouflage,
Dawn Penn,
MDC,
The Dead C,
One Last Wish,
Bang On A Can,
Swans,
The Birthday Party,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Charles Mingus,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Brothers Johnson,
Todd Rundgren,
The Beau Brummels,
The Stooges,
Ronnie Foster,
Isaac Hayes,
Smog,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Gabor Szabo,
Young Marble Giants,
Excepter,
The Divine Comedy,
Deadbeat,
Fluxion,
Gichy Dan,
Adolescents,
Mr. Review,
E-Dancer,
Wasted Youth,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Move,
Juan Atkins,
Mary Jane Girls,
Wally Richardson,
The Angels of Light,
Tommy Roe,
David Bowie,
Scan 7,
Bob Dylan,
Brick,
Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo.
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.