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 Guyana and from Paris.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 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 Echo & the Bunnymen to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Fela Kuti. All the underground hits.
All Rotary Connection tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heaven 17 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barry Ungar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arcadia,
Theoretical Girls,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Mantronix,
Los Fastidios,
Rapeman,
The Flesh Eaters,
Joey Negro,
Dennis Brown,
Lou Christie,
China Crisis,
Interpol,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Last Poets,
Jawbox,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gichy Dan,
Main Source,
Alison Limerick,
Niagra,
Chrome,
Desert Stars,
Pulsallama,
Public Enemy,
Gang Gang Dance,
Susan Cadogan,
Siglo XX,
Archie Shepp,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bill Near,
Suburban Knight,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Dark Day,
June Days,
Quadrant,
The Young Rascals,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Mission of Burma,
Alice Coltrane,
Maurizio,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Crispy Ambulance,
Outsiders,
New Age Steppers,
Aural Exciters,
Banda Bassotti,
Sandy B,
Jesper Dahlback,
Bobby Sherman,
The Detroit Cobras,
Rites of Spring,
Marmalade,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Talk Talk,
Bill Wells,
Ohio Players,
Masters at Work,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Black Dice,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Standells,
Man Eating Sloth,
F. McDonald,
Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd.
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.