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 Singapore and from Sao Paulo.
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 Hong Kong and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Minor Threat. All the underground hits.
All Steve Hackett tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Japan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
Skarface,
The Index,
The Beau Brummels,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Searchers,
JFA,
Amon Düül II,
Wings,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Sound,
Don Cherry,
10cc,
Circle Jerks,
Aloha Tigers,
Rufus Thomas,
Jerry's Kids,
Los Fastidios,
Tears for Fears,
Brass Construction,
Junior Murvin,
Hasil Adkins,
Soulsonic Force,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Music Machine,
Popol Vuh,
Desert Stars,
Faraquet,
Wire,
Josef K,
Barbara Tucker,
the Bar-Kays,
Unwound,
The Durutti Column,
Trumans Water,
Morten Harket,
Warren Ellis,
F. McDonald,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Wake,
Kenny Larkin,
Stiv Bators,
B.T. Express,
Derrick Morgan,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Tom Boy,
Henry Cow,
Babytalk,
The Alarm Clocks,
Jeff Lynne,
Chris Corsano,
Ponytail,
Anthony Braxton,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Rakim,
Patti Smith,
Roxy Music,
Urselle,
Minnie Riperton,
Symarip,
Graham Central Station,
The New Christs,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.