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 Greece and from Cairo.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 synthesizer 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 Niagra to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine. All the underground hits.
All Smog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Intrusion 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sisters of Mercy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Desert Stars,
Crime,
Eric Dolphy,
Funkadelic,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sam Rivers,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Junior Murvin,
Brick,
Pole,
Arthur Verocai,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sun Ra,
Flash Fearless,
Josef K,
Altered Images,
Can,
Erasure,
Ten City,
Angry Samoans,
Depeche Mode,
Leonard Cohen,
The Motions,
Moby Grape,
Yusef Lateef,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Modern Lovers,
Newcleus,
DJ Sneak,
Colin Newman,
The Residents,
Half Japanese,
Matthew Bourne,
The Happenings,
Gong,
48th St. Collective,
H. Thieme,
Susan Cadogan,
KRS-One,
Anakelly,
Jandek,
The Offenders,
Schoolly D,
Wolf Eyes,
Tim Buckley,
Aural Exciters,
Kayak,
The Smiths,
The Raincoats,
Nico,
Deadbeat,
Lightning Bolt,
The Mojo Men,
Pet Shop Boys,
the Soft Cell,
Jeff Lynne,
Mission of Burma,
Nick Fraelich,
Barrington Levy,
Black Bananas,
Fluxion,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.