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 New Zealand and from Johannesburg.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Roxy Music. All the underground hits.
All The Buckinghams tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lindisfarne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hoover,
Nirvana,
Black Flag,
The Gap Band,
Alton Ellis,
Eve St. Jones,
MC5,
Mad Mike,
Connie Case,
Gang Starr,
Sound Behaviour,
Gabor Szabo,
Lalann,
Pussy Galore,
Cluster,
Arab on Radar,
Average White Band,
Index,
The Young Rascals,
Hardrive,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ice-T,
Masters at Work,
Warsaw,
Todd Terry,
June of 44,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sight & Sound,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gichy Dan,
Supertramp,
Subhumans,
Joe Finger,
Moss Icon,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Sällskapet,
Bauhaus,
Delon & Dalcan,
ABBA,
Simply Red,
Alphaville,
Sexual Harrassment,
Jimmy McGriff,
Mandrill,
Blossom Toes,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Offenders,
Yellowson,
10cc,
Henry Cow,
Heaven 17,
Joensuu 1685,
Unrelated Segments,
Pere Ubu,
Desert Stars,
Smog,
Slave,
Marmalade,
Rod Modell,
Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May.
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.