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 Bahrain and from Houston.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 mellotron 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 Stiv Bators to the rock 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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All Jacob Miller tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Joe & The Fish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Royal Family And The Poor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Motions,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Martian,
Pussy Galore,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bobby Sherman,
Reagan Youth,
Mantronix,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Radiopuhelimet,
Trumans Water,
The Buckinghams,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Letta Mbulu,
Average White Band,
Jandek,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Quando Quango,
Smog,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Joey Negro,
Procol Harum,
John Holt,
Goldenarms,
the Bar-Kays,
Outsiders,
The Neon Judgement,
Lalo Schifrin,
Schoolly D,
Mandrill,
DJ Sneak,
Maurizio,
X-Ray Spex,
The Black Dice,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bang On A Can,
Skriet,
Audionom,
Interpol,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Rhythm & Sound,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Saints,
48th St. Collective,
Bad Manners,
New Age Steppers,
Brick,
Anthony Braxton,
The Human League,
Lungfish,
Nik Kershaw,
Johnny Clarke,
Rod Modell,
Jacques Brel,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Gories,
Angry Samoans,
Kayak,
Man Parrish,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.