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 Bremen.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Last Poets to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All The Remains tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unrelated Segments 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Sheep,
Flipper,
Yaz,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Aaron Thompson,
Howard Jones,
The Residents,
The Walker Brothers,
David McCallum,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bronski Beat,
R.M.O.,
Mo-Dettes,
Steve Hackett,
The Last Poets,
Massinfluence,
The Black Dice,
Radiohead,
Joe Finger,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Visage,
Todd Terry,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Index,
the Human League,
The Fugs,
Pantytec,
The Human League,
Jerry's Kids,
The Birthday Party,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Terry Callier,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Black Moon,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Patti Smith,
The Electric Prunes,
Buzzcocks,
Kerri Chandler,
The Moody Blues,
Crooked Eye,
Quantec,
Lebanon Hanover,
Kurtis Blow,
Pussy Galore,
the Association,
The Move,
The Velvet Underground,
The Leaves,
Tubeway Army,
Slick Rick,
Tommy Roe,
London Community Gospel Choir,
cv313,
Surgeon,
Thompson Twins,
Wings,
The Zeros,
Scan 7,
Model 500,
The Pop Group,
X-101, X-101, X-101, X-101.
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.