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 Malawi and from Copenhagen.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Tehran.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
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 Arcadia to the rock 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 A Flock of Seagulls. All the underground hits.
All Sixth Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kayak record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cramps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacques Brel,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Depeche Mode,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Fatback Band,
Nils Olav,
The Smoke,
Rufus Thomas,
Schoolly D,
Sarah Menescal,
Shuggie Otis,
Joy Division,
Stetsasonic,
Mary Jane Girls,
Interpol,
Outsiders,
Loose Ends,
The Pretty Things,
Lou Christie,
Dennis Brown,
The Martian,
The Grass Roots,
Make Up,
Crash Course in Science,
Avey Tare,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Brand Nubian,
Panda Bear,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bobbi Humphrey,
June of 44,
Yellowson,
Eve St. Jones,
Lungfish,
Warsaw,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Sun Ra,
Bad Manners,
Rosa Yemen,
Flash Fearless,
The Doobie Brothers,
Pussy Galore,
Quadrant,
Malaria!,
Harry Pussy,
Kayak,
Thompson Twins,
Circle Jerks,
Boredoms,
48th St. Collective,
Blake Baxter,
The Dead C,
E-Dancer,
Quantec,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Excepter,
Max Romeo,
Saccharine Trust,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Harmonia,
Howard Jones,
Amon Düül,
Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover.
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.