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 Gabon and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Nik Kershaw to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Gabor Szabo. All the underground hits.
All The Pretty Things tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dirtbombs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
Pagans,
The Fugs,
Mr. Review,
Iggy Pop,
The Moleskins,
Trumans Water,
The Gap Band,
The Detroit Cobras,
Colin Newman,
Echospace,
Adolescents,
Parry Music,
UT,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sun City Girls,
Derrick May,
Henry Cow,
the Bar-Kays,
Jacob Miller,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Minny Pops,
Boz Scaggs,
Piero Umiliani,
Masters at Work,
Scrapy,
Eyeless In Gaza,
DJ Sneak,
Tom Boy,
Lungfish,
Bobby Byrd,
D'Angelo,
Au Pairs,
Fluxion,
Ronan,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Hoover,
Stereo Dub,
Deadbeat,
the Fania All-Stars,
Johnny Clarke,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Subhumans,
Dennis Brown,
Banda Bassotti,
Sonny Sharrock,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Audionom,
Yazoo,
Half Japanese,
Lalo Schifrin,
Agitation Free,
Mark Hollis,
Thompson Twins,
Ituana,
Section 25,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Red Krayola,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Camouflage,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Deakin, Deakin, Deakin, Deakin.
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.