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 Ghana and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Kerrie Biddell to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Average White Band. All the underground hits.
All Idris Muhammad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Walker Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kayak record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum 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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Blues Magoos,
The Mummies,
Arcadia,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Boz Scaggs,
Robert Hood,
Hashim,
Lucky Dragons,
Kevin Saunderson,
Anakelly,
Lakeside,
Ken Boothe,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Scott Walker,
The Grass Roots,
The Offenders,
Barrington Levy,
Crime,
Metal Thangz,
The Monks,
Sam Rivers,
The Gories,
Ten City,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Depeche Mode,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Gladiators,
Brand Nubian,
Das Ding,
Bauhaus,
Bobby Byrd,
Faraquet,
The Shadows of Knight,
Suburban Knight,
The Music Machine,
Gang Starr,
Minutemen,
Joyce Sims,
Symarip,
The Doors,
Shuggie Otis,
Aaron Thompson,
Bang On A Can,
Tom Boy,
John Foxx,
The Real Kids,
Mission of Burma,
Aloha Tigers,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Barracudas,
Stetsasonic,
Half Japanese,
Dual Sessions,
Siglo XX,
cv313,
Nils Olav,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Quantec,
Monolake, Monolake, Monolake, Monolake.
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.