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 Bahamas and from Houston.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Hong Kong.
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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Human League to the grime 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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Seeds 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June of 44 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Green,
Laurel Aitken,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Mummies,
Interpol,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Ice-T,
Henry Cow,
Yellowson,
Todd Rundgren,
One Last Wish,
Bill Wells,
Soft Cell,
Average White Band,
Gong,
Archie Shepp,
Surgeon,
Peter and Kerry,
Faust,
Lindisfarne,
Eve St. Jones,
Das Ding,
Maurizio,
Gregory Isaacs,
Warsaw,
David Bowie,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
X-Ray Spex,
Hot Snakes,
Minutemen,
X-101,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
ABC,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Jeff Lynne,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Yazoo,
The Alarm Clocks,
Alphaville,
The Names,
Smog,
Isaac Hayes,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Detroit Cobras,
Crooked Eye,
Pylon,
Matthew Bourne,
Judy Mowatt,
Spoonie Gee,
Rekid,
The Victims,
Motorama,
Second Layer,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Goldenarms,
Albert Ayler,
Drive Like Jehu,
Minor Threat,
Bootsy Collins,
Nas,
E-Dancer,
Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes.
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.