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 Singapore and from Milan.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Gabor Szabo to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Prince Buster. All the underground hits.
All Mandrill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Can record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Beau Brummels record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxette,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Flamin' Groovies,
Motorama,
Black Pus,
Joey Negro,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
a-ha,
The Five Americans,
Jeff Lynne,
Harry Pussy,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Zapp,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Invisible,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Seeds,
JFA,
Drexciya,
Minutemen,
Suburban Knight,
Dorothy Ashby,
Agent Orange,
Tubeway Army,
Japan,
Mars,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Aural Exciters,
Terrestrial Tones,
Crispian St. Peters,
Make Up,
Skarface,
Roy Ayers,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Kerri Chandler,
Shoche,
Judy Mowatt,
Duran Duran,
Ultra Naté,
The Music Machine,
The Golliwogs,
Joensuu 1685,
Bauhaus,
Supertramp,
Fat Boys,
John Coltrane,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Red Krayola,
Glenn Branca,
Country Teasers,
The Flesh Eaters,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Masters at Work,
The Fire Engines,
Boz Scaggs,
Moebius,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Blackbyrds,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pole,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls.
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.