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 Dominican Republic and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Salvador.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the oboe 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All The Alarm Clocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Leaves record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Icehouse,
Eden Ahbez,
Cluster,
Schoolly D,
Grauzone,
Motorama,
Khruangbin,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Youth Brigade,
Rites of Spring,
The Moody Blues,
The Human League,
Bill Near,
Qualms,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
B.T. Express,
Masters at Work,
Al Stewart,
kango's stein massive,
The Evens,
The Sonics,
June Days,
Model 500,
Pole,
Ornette Coleman,
Gong,
Unrelated Segments,
Minor Threat,
Jeru the Damaja,
Cybotron,
The Velvet Underground,
Donald Byrd,
Average White Band,
Pere Ubu,
Marine Girls,
Fat Boys,
The United States of America,
Wally Richardson,
Derrick Morgan,
Warren Ellis,
Swell Maps,
Sarah Menescal,
China Crisis,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Raincoats,
Sandy B,
The Slackers,
The Birthday Party,
The Blackbyrds,
Basic Channel,
Shoche,
MDC,
Kenny Larkin,
Second Layer,
Shuggie Otis,
Henry Cow,
The Trojans,
Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange.
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.