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 Bhutan and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
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 Matthew Halsall to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Juan Atkins. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tears for Fears record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Supertramp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobbi Humphrey,
Henry Cow,
Unrelated Segments,
Alice Coltrane,
Faraquet,
Niagra,
MDC,
Tomorrow,
Pharoah Sanders,
Glambeats Corp.,
Albert Ayler,
H. Thieme,
Pussy Galore,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Barracudas,
The Wake,
The Fall,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Mars,
The Litter,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Anthony Braxton,
Sam Rivers,
Wally Richardson,
X-101,
Adolescents,
Hot Snakes,
the Germs,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Metal Thangz,
Terrestrial Tones,
Bronski Beat,
Supertramp,
Grey Daturas,
Excepter,
Roy Ayers,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bill Near,
In Retrospect,
LL Cool J,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Names,
Oblivians,
Eve St. Jones,
Jacob Miller,
Moby Grape,
Archie Shepp,
Symarip,
The Vogues,
Todd Rundgren,
Accadde A,
Second Layer,
Sex Pistols,
The New Christs,
Brick,
The Smiths,
Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange.
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.