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 Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Beijing.
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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the marimba 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 Ohio Players 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 Lou Reed. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun City Girls 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Alarm Clocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Livin' Joy,
Minor Threat,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
DNA,
The Zeros,
Electric Prunes,
The Doors,
Funkadelic,
48th St. Collective,
Kool Moe Dee,
Delta 5,
Hardrive,
Index,
Yazoo,
K-Klass,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Searchers,
Nils Olav,
Buzzcocks,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Thompson Twins,
Porter Ricks,
Rotary Connection,
The Five Americans,
Isaac Hayes,
Sonny Sharrock,
Babytalk,
Minny Pops,
Subhumans,
Pere Ubu,
X-101,
The Real Kids,
Patti Smith,
Quando Quango,
The Mummies,
Crooked Eye,
Brand Nubian,
The Human League,
Sixth Finger,
Audionom,
Letta Mbulu,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Oneida,
Liliput,
Scrapy,
Barrington Levy,
The Dead C,
Nirvana,
Saccharine Trust,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Mission of Burma,
Cecil Taylor,
Eric Dolphy,
Davy DMX,
Stetsasonic,
Maurizio,
A Certain Ratio,
Suburban Knight,
The Victims,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Guru Guru,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.