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 Malaysia and from Spokane.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Soul II Soul to the disco 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 The United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Marc Almond tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Wake record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Simply Red record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joey Negro,
Yusef Lateef,
Yellowson,
The Dirtbombs,
ABC,
The Martian,
The American Breed,
Franke,
DJ Sneak,
Bad Manners,
Wire,
Average White Band,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Rotary Connection,
Avey Tare,
Bauhaus,
Ten City,
The Victims,
the Fania All-Stars,
Pantytec,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Goldenarms,
The Angels of Light,
Cheater Slicks,
Electric Prunes,
Rosa Yemen,
The Five Americans,
Fat Boys,
Crispian St. Peters,
Liliput,
Can,
48th St. Collective,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Vladislav Delay,
Negative Approach,
Todd Rundgren,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Gang Green,
Stiv Bators,
Japan,
Chris Corsano,
Nils Olav,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Scrapy,
New Order,
Pet Shop Boys,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bobby Sherman,
The Cure,
Ponytail,
A Certain Ratio,
Ornette Coleman,
F. McDonald,
the Human League,
Quando Quango,
Audionom,
The Remains,
Maurizio,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson.
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.