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 Mexico and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 Lou Reed 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Bush Tetras. All the underground hits.
All Q and Not U tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters 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 theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Al Stewart record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barclay James Harvest,
Neil Young,
Porter Ricks,
Soul Sonic Force,
The J.B.'s,
Slave,
Susan Cadogan,
Carl Craig,
The Vogues,
Skarface,
Mandrill,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Crispian St. Peters,
B.T. Express,
Pharoah Sanders,
Absolute Body Control,
Todd Rundgren,
Yazoo,
Yellowson,
The Red Krayola,
Mars,
Lyres,
Zapp,
Das Ding,
The Count Five,
Barrington Levy,
Pulsallama,
Hot Snakes,
U.S. Maple,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Fatback Band,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Invisible,
Scrapy,
Popol Vuh,
Bad Manners,
Icehouse,
Donny Hathaway,
Public Image Ltd.,
Moss Icon,
Clear Light,
Panda Bear,
The Doobie Brothers,
Tommy Roe,
The Fugs,
Bob Dylan,
Suicide,
The Index,
World's Most,
Audionom,
Scion,
Frankie Knuckles,
Intrusion,
One Last Wish,
Johnny Clarke,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bizarre Inc.,
Make Up,
Au Pairs,
The Last Poets,
Rapeman,
Hasil Adkins,
Cameo, Cameo, Cameo, Cameo.
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.