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 Cambodia and from Edmonton.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Madrid.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Flipper to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Silicon Teens. All the underground hits.
All Young Marble Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
Avey Tare,
Darondo,
Nick Fraelich,
The Names,
Yusef Lateef,
Funky Four + One,
The Detroit Cobras,
Tomorrow,
Whodini,
The Fall,
Man Parrish,
The Blackbyrds,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Al Stewart,
Robert Görl,
Ultimate Spinach,
Todd Rundgren,
Minny Pops,
Sixth Finger,
Black Pus,
Tom Boy,
AZ,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Clear Light,
Blancmange,
Janne Schatter,
The Skatalites,
Monks,
Jawbox,
Agitation Free,
Slave,
Cheater Slicks,
Harmonia,
Rufus Thomas,
The American Breed,
Index,
Maurizio,
The Real Kids,
Newcleus,
Faust,
Scratch Acid,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Black Dice,
Crime,
The Dead C,
The Smiths,
World's Most,
Minor Threat,
Nirvana,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Von Mondo,
10cc,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Man Eating Sloth,
Second Layer,
The Zeros,
The Doobie Brothers,
Crooked Eye,
Rakim,
Motorama,
Lebanon Hanover,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.