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 Antigua and from Tokyo.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 David Bowie 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 Quadrant to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Warren Ellis. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Bowie record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Hood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slick Rick,
The Index,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Jeff Lynne,
The Busters,
This Heat,
Eve St. Jones,
Siglo XX,
Morten Harket,
Wally Richardson,
Talk Talk,
Byron Stingily,
Zero Boys,
R.M.O.,
The Gories,
Public Enemy,
Throbbing Gristle,
Rosa Yemen,
Magma,
The Smoke,
The J.B.'s,
Laurel Aitken,
MC5,
Excepter,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Dirtbombs,
Desert Stars,
X-101,
Bob Dylan,
John Lydon,
The Gun Club,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Offenders,
Thee Headcoats,
Tomorrow,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Scott Walker,
Country Teasers,
Crispian St. Peters,
H. Thieme,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Nik Kershaw,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Franke,
New York Dolls,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Alice Coltrane,
Girls At Our Best!,
Supertramp,
Barry Ungar,
The Buckinghams,
Drive Like Jehu,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Human League,
Quando Quango,
Warren Ellis,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Panda Bear,
The Stooges,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.