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 Georgia and from Johannesburg.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo to the disco 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 Reagan Youth. All the underground hits.
All Essential Logic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Alarm Clocks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gabor Szabo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
Guru Guru,
Monolake,
The Red Krayola,
Laurel Aitken,
Interpol,
LL Cool J,
Alison Limerick,
Can,
L. Decosne,
Das Ding,
Joey Negro,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Nico,
Erasure,
Roxy Music,
Freddie Wadling,
Sam Rivers,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Residents,
Marine Girls,
Mary Jane Girls,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Jandek,
FM Einheit,
T.S.O.L.,
Todd Rundgren,
John Coltrane,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Depeche Mode,
Mars,
Wings,
The Last Poets,
Babytalk,
Technova,
Gil Scott Heron,
Fear,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
the Fania All-Stars,
Robert Wyatt,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Crime,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Beasts of Bourbon,
the Slits,
Leonard Cohen,
Organ,
Soft Machine,
Los Fastidios,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Black Pus,
The Sonics,
Motorama,
Rufus Thomas,
Harry Pussy,
Visage,
Magazine,
The Tremeloes,
The Mummies,
Warsaw,
Delon & Dalcan,
Amazonics,
Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound.
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.