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 East Timor and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Laurel Aitken to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Mary Jane Girls. All the underground hits.
All Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stockholm Monsters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tim Buckley,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Saints,
Tres Demented,
Public Image Ltd.,
Hashim,
Mantronix,
Juan Atkins,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
In Retrospect,
Franke,
Stetsasonic,
Marc Almond,
The Pretty Things,
Sam Rivers,
Andrew Hill,
Icehouse,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Man Parrish,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Durutti Column,
Iggy Pop,
LL Cool J,
Barrington Levy,
Joensuu 1685,
The Victims,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Doobie Brothers,
Bob Dylan,
the Fania All-Stars,
Curtis Mayfield,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Skriet,
Prince Buster,
Visage,
AZ,
The Divine Comedy,
Surgeon,
Lucky Dragons,
These Immortal Souls,
The Evens,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Golliwogs,
The Offenders,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Public Enemy,
Eurythmics,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Five Americans,
Ronnie Foster,
Reagan Youth,
Lungfish,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Nirvana,
Porter Ricks,
Hardrive,
Fear,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Brick,
Young Marble Giants,
The Leaves,
Crooked Eye,
R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O..
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.