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 Gambia and from Glasgow.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Moody Blues to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids. All the underground hits.
All Davy DMX tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radio Birdman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Smog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pagans,
La Düsseldorf,
Altered Images,
The Dead C,
Black Bananas,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Blues Magoos,
Howard Jones,
Neil Young,
June Days,
The Martian,
The Birthday Party,
Stetsasonic,
Pierre Henry,
Johnny Clarke,
Young Marble Giants,
Nils Olav,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Star Department,
Stiv Bators,
Groovy Waters,
PIL,
Black Pus,
Crispy Ambulance,
John Coltrane,
Robert Hood,
Electric Prunes,
Janne Schatter,
Arcadia,
New York Dolls,
Von Mondo,
Donny Hathaway,
Half Japanese,
David Bowie,
Skarface,
The Pretty Things,
Lou Reed,
The Standells,
The Buckinghams,
R.M.O.,
Davy DMX,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Idris Muhammad,
The Leaves,
The Selecter,
Visage,
The Tremeloes,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Girls At Our Best!,
Darondo,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Mars,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Simply Red,
Dead Boys,
X-101,
Radiopuhelimet,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Doobie Brothers,
the Normal,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.