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 Bahrain and from Calgary.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
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 In Retrospect to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Seeds. All the underground hits.
All In Retrospect tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lebanon Hanover record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultimate Spinach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
Ituana,
Mantronix,
Black Moon,
Lyres,
Lindisfarne,
Saccharine Trust,
the Germs,
Spandau Ballet,
Marvin Gaye,
Country Teasers,
Eve St. Jones,
Smog,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Marc Almond,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sex Pistols,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Warsaw,
Letta Mbulu,
Grey Daturas,
Hot Snakes,
The Kinks,
Deadbeat,
Porter Ricks,
Soft Cell,
Robert Görl,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Amon Düül,
The Cure,
The Fugs,
The Blues Magoos,
The Selecter,
T.S.O.L.,
The Golliwogs,
Peter and Kerry,
Faraquet,
Joyce Sims,
The Moody Blues,
The Black Dice,
Alice Coltrane,
Au Pairs,
Graham Central Station,
Blancmange,
48th St. Collective,
Gastr Del Sol,
Newcleus,
Bauhaus,
Public Image Ltd.,
Whodini,
the Human League,
Johnny Osbourne,
Youth Brigade,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Wake,
FM Einheit,
Stockholm Monsters,
Oblivians,
Swell Maps,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Quantec, Quantec, Quantec, Quantec.
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.