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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Seoul.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 sitar 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 Procol Harum to the rap 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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All Deakin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Manfred Mann's Earth Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gap Band,
The Busters,
Freddie Wadling,
Magazine,
Ice-T,
Monolake,
Con Funk Shun,
Tim Buckley,
cv313,
Angry Samoans,
Patti Smith,
Deakin,
Wire,
Wasted Youth,
Girls At Our Best!,
Susan Cadogan,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Thompson Twins,
X-102,
Franke,
The Offenders,
Donald Byrd,
The Happenings,
Pole,
Fad Gadget,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Liliput,
Morten Harket,
Jeff Lynne,
Todd Terry,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Godley & Creme,
The Fire Engines,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gregory Isaacs,
Delon & Dalcan,
Vainqueur,
T. Rex,
Country Teasers,
Harry Pussy,
Eric B and Rakim,
Black Moon,
Sight & Sound,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Roger Hodgson,
Radiohead,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Model 500,
Nation of Ulysses,
Terry Callier,
Eurythmics,
Yellowson,
Porter Ricks,
Gichy Dan,
Amon Düül,
PIL,
The Divine Comedy,
Joensuu 1685,
Minnie Riperton,
Grauzone,
Maurizio,
The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes.
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.