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 Zambia and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 clarinet 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 Al Stewart to the jazz 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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All The Names tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Velvet Underground record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Copeland record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joey Negro,
The Star Department,
Country Teasers,
Donny Hathaway,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Half Japanese,
Flipper,
Eric B and Rakim,
Radio Birdman,
Soft Machine,
Deakin,
Shuggie Otis,
Reagan Youth,
E-Dancer,
Scan 7,
Brass Construction,
Lyres,
Lou Christie,
The Slackers,
Mad Mike,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Blackbyrds,
The Neon Judgement,
Josef K,
Supertramp,
Echospace,
Little Man,
Slave,
The Fortunes,
Urselle,
Barrington Levy,
Joy Division,
The Beau Brummels,
David Axelrod,
Crash Course in Science,
Jeff Lynne,
Michelle Simonal,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Can,
Ultravox,
Jeru the Damaja,
Gang Green,
Robert Görl,
Tommy Roe,
The United States of America,
In Retrospect,
Funky Four + One,
Neu!,
Roxette,
Joyce Sims,
Pantytec,
Eurythmics,
Monks,
Howard Jones,
Lakeside,
the Fania All-Stars,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Traffic Nightmare,
Grey Daturas,
The Black Dice,
ABBA, ABBA, ABBA, ABBA.
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.