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 Laos and from Winnipeg.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Spokane.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Pop Group to the crunk 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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Lynne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a U.S. Maple record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wire,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Boz Scaggs,
Radiohead,
Cecil Taylor,
Khruangbin,
Drive Like Jehu,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Yusef Lateef,
Ultimate Spinach,
Faust,
Cal Tjader,
The Index,
Brothers Johnson,
Gang Green,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Cure,
Au Pairs,
L. Decosne,
Frankie Knuckles,
Chris Corsano,
MC5,
Sexual Harrassment,
Agent Orange,
Scott Walker,
Delta 5,
the Germs,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Moss Icon,
Tim Buckley,
The Sound,
Pole,
Wings,
Easy Going,
Ornette Coleman,
This Heat,
Alphaville,
Deepchord,
Slick Rick,
Wally Richardson,
The Moody Blues,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Minutemen,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Sonics,
Max Romeo,
Sister Nancy,
Marmalade,
Smog,
Matthew Bourne,
Skriet,
DJ Sneak,
Eric Copeland,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sun Ra,
Avey Tare,
The Alarm Clocks,
ABBA,
The Monochrome Set,
Swans,
Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II.
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.