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 Qatar and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 The Toasters to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Dark Day. All the underground hits.
All Sight & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blues Magoos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gabor Szabo,
Rod Modell,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Wasted Youth,
John Coltrane,
Cal Tjader,
Lou Reed,
Hardrive,
The Victims,
Alice Coltrane,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Deadbeat,
ABC,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Nico,
Robert Wyatt,
Ronnie Foster,
the Germs,
Crime,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Yusef Lateef,
Hoover,
the Normal,
Henry Cow,
Pagans,
Sugar Minott,
June Days,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Subhumans,
David McCallum,
Fat Boys,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Beau Brummels,
These Immortal Souls,
Crooked Eye,
Peter & Gordon,
La Düsseldorf,
a-ha,
The Divine Comedy,
Inner City,
Nik Kershaw,
Rapeman,
Mad Mike,
Crash Course in Science,
Drexciya,
Warsaw,
Babytalk,
Royal Trux,
John Foxx,
Section 25,
Procol Harum,
The Kinks,
Radio Birdman,
Marcia Griffiths,
AZ,
The Fuzztones,
The J.B.'s,
Rufus Thomas,
Funky Four + One,
Panda Bear,
The Mummies,
Jimmy McGriff,
Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy.
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.