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 Stockholm.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Taipei.
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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Nation of Ulysses to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Blancmange. All the underground hits.
All Soulsonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Human League 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Major Organ And The Adding Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scientists,
Ludus,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Golliwogs,
Technova,
Suicide,
Wasted Youth,
Fugazi,
Dawn Penn,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Cowsills,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Pretty Things,
Letta Mbulu,
Sam Rivers,
Joe Finger,
Motorama,
Andrew Hill,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
James White and The Blacks,
Lucky Dragons,
Avey Tare,
Marmalade,
John Coltrane,
Dead Boys,
Max Romeo,
John Lydon,
Johnny Clarke,
Hardrive,
MDC,
Howard Jones,
Fatback Band,
Cheater Slicks,
Sparks,
Delon & Dalcan,
Gerry Rafferty,
Idris Muhammad,
Pierre Henry,
Donald Byrd,
Siglo XX,
Scott Walker,
Freddie Wadling,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Basic Channel,
Alton Ellis,
Barclay James Harvest,
Tears for Fears,
Joe Smooth,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Archie Shepp,
Jacques Brel,
Severed Heads,
Blake Baxter,
Nico,
Audionom,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Selecter,
The Red Krayola,
Neu!,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.