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 Suriname and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 linndrum 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 Lalo Schifrin to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Nirvana. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magazine 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fatback Band,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Invisible,
The Toasters,
Arthur Verocai,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Animal Collective,
Flamin' Groovies,
8 Eyed Spy,
Graham Central Station,
Robert Görl,
MDC,
John Coltrane,
Arcadia,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Cheater Slicks,
The Fugs,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Duran Duran,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Joensuu 1685,
Maurizio,
Eden Ahbez,
LL Cool J,
John Cale,
Gang of Four,
Spoonie Gee,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bang On A Can,
The Trojans,
The Beau Brummels,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Barbara Tucker,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Joey Negro,
The Smoke,
Mr. Review,
The Young Rascals,
Lebanon Hanover,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Model 500,
Aswad,
Lightning Bolt,
Joyce Sims,
Warsaw,
MC5,
Pylon,
H. Thieme,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lungfish,
Organ,
The Mojo Men,
Mad Mike,
Procol Harum,
Severed Heads,
The Misunderstood,
Mo-Dettes,
Reagan Youth,
The Index, The Index, The Index, The Index.
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.