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 Pakistan 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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 snare 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 Marvin Gaye to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Girls At Our Best!. All the underground hits.
All Nirvana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hot Snakes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Iggy Pop record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacques Brel,
F. McDonald,
The Litter,
The Vogues,
Lyres,
Laurel Aitken,
Severed Heads,
Minnie Riperton,
Charles Mingus,
Bill Wells,
The Techniques,
The United States of America,
The Searchers,
Gastr Del Sol,
Henry Cow,
Urselle,
MC5,
Mr. Review,
The Leaves,
Supertramp,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sonic Youth,
Suburban Knight,
Joey Negro,
Toni Rubio,
Tears for Fears,
Brand Nubian,
Peter and Kerry,
The Associates,
Terrestrial Tones,
Black Flag,
Bush Tetras,
Roger Hodgson,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
ABC,
Rakim,
New York Dolls,
Slick Rick,
Albert Ayler,
DJ Style,
Organ,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Peter & Gordon,
The Busters,
Khruangbin,
L. Decosne,
Graham Central Station,
Ultra Naté,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Lucky Dragons,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Maleditus Sound,
Absolute Body Control,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Dave Clark Five,
Gerry Rafferty,
FM Einheit,
Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill.
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.