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 Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Golliwogs to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Warsaw. All the underground hits.
All Richard Hell and the Voidoids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terrestrial Tones 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rufus Thomas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sisters of Mercy,
Aloha Tigers,
Spandau Ballet,
The Music Machine,
Darondo,
Rekid,
Organ,
Groovy Waters,
The Smiths,
F. McDonald,
Stockholm Monsters,
Joy Division,
Amon Düül II,
X-101,
Main Source,
Joyce Sims,
The Pop Group,
The Seeds,
The American Breed,
Loose Ends,
Mission of Burma,
Bluetip,
Fluxion,
Sound Behaviour,
Radio Birdman,
Lebanon Hanover,
Nirvana,
The Grass Roots,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Divine Comedy,
Chris & Cosey,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Susan Cadogan,
Agent Orange,
Bad Manners,
Mr. Review,
Barclay James Harvest,
Flash Fearless,
Yusef Lateef,
John Holt,
Roy Ayers,
Sonic Youth,
Gang of Four,
Lalann,
The Associates,
Marcia Griffiths,
Suicide,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Zapp,
Bill Wells,
The Happenings,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Hoover,
Sonny Sharrock,
Zero Boys,
Nick Fraelich,
Khruangbin,
Urselle,
Anakelly,
John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon.
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.