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 Latvia and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Seoul.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
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 These Immortal Souls to the punk 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 Mad Mike. All the underground hits.
All Sixth Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scrapy 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Banda Bassotti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
The Index,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ultravox,
Jacob Miller,
Danielle Patucci,
Organ,
CMW,
Mary Jane Girls,
Siglo XX,
Desert Stars,
One Last Wish,
Electric Prunes,
Sight & Sound,
Boz Scaggs,
Technova,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Roxette,
Fluxion,
LL Cool J,
Arab on Radar,
Half Japanese,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Supertramp,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Donald Byrd,
These Immortal Souls,
Fat Boys,
Brand Nubian,
Rakim,
Icehouse,
Interpol,
Eurythmics,
Inner City,
The Count Five,
The Fall,
Jerry's Kids,
ABC,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Arthur Verocai,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Eden Ahbez,
Prince Buster,
Hasil Adkins,
X-102,
Stereo Dub,
Terry Callier,
Gil Scott Heron,
Country Teasers,
Bobby Sherman,
Scientists,
China Crisis,
Alphaville,
The Pretty Things,
The Blues Magoos,
Blake Baxter,
T. Rex,
Sonny Sharrock,
Eric B and Rakim,
World's Most,
Colin Newman,
Mo-Dettes,
New Age Steppers,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
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.