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 Dominica and from Madrid.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 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 Wire to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Marcia Griffiths. All the underground hits.
All Vaughan Mason & Crew tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rahsaan Roland Kirk 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Raincoats,
Blancmange,
The Detroit Cobras,
Cybotron,
The Moody Blues,
New York Dolls,
Unrelated Segments,
Talk Talk,
Y Pants,
Bob Dylan,
Smog,
Chris Corsano,
Flipper,
Cheater Slicks,
Liliput,
Dead Boys,
The Saints,
Dual Sessions,
Bush Tetras,
Goldenarms,
Anthony Braxton,
Rites of Spring,
Outsiders,
Graham Central Station,
Susan Cadogan,
Oblivians,
the Soft Cell,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Roy Ayers,
World's Most,
Joe Smooth,
Nik Kershaw,
Laurel Aitken,
The Smoke,
Scrapy,
Radiohead,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Monks,
Todd Terry,
The Stooges,
Josef K,
Suburban Knight,
Godley & Creme,
MC5,
Max Romeo,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Harry Pussy,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Wasted Youth,
Wolf Eyes,
Audionom,
Silicon Teens,
Brass Construction,
The Knickerbockers,
Black Sheep,
Nico,
In Retrospect,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Tom Boy,
Masters at Work,
Barclay James Harvest,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
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.