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 Cape Verde and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in 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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 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 Crispian St. Peters to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Flamin' Groovies. All the underground hits.
All the Fania All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Christie 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soulsonic Force record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nation of Ulysses,
Eric Dolphy,
Barry Ungar,
Visage,
Wally Richardson,
Lungfish,
Yellowson,
The Sound,
The Kinks,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Alice Coltrane,
The Offenders,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Hasil Adkins,
Lyres,
The Moleskins,
Susan Cadogan,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Don Cherry,
Harry Pussy,
Agitation Free,
Inner City,
Royal Trux,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Flipper,
Tim Buckley,
Soft Machine,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The J.B.'s,
Minny Pops,
Barbara Tucker,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Oneida,
The Slits,
Boredoms,
Mo-Dettes,
10cc,
Eric Copeland,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Fugazi,
DJ Style,
Banda Bassotti,
The Fall,
X-101,
The Vogues,
The New Christs,
Gang Gang Dance,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
June Days,
Jeff Mills,
Rosa Yemen,
the Human League,
Black Sheep,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Yusef Lateef,
Prince Buster,
The Music Machine,
Rapeman,
Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman.
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.