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 Brazil and from Madrid.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Chris Corsano. All the underground hits.
All Make Up tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
D'Angelo,
Ten City,
The Cure,
Soulsonic Force,
the Slits,
F. McDonald,
Harmonia,
R.M.O.,
Minny Pops,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Flesh Eaters,
Roxette,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
the Swans,
Tommy Roe,
Royal Trux,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Dead Boys,
Mo-Dettes,
The Stooges,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Aural Exciters,
Soft Cell,
The Count Five,
Kerri Chandler,
Rotary Connection,
World's Most,
Erasure,
Marcia Griffiths,
Mark Hollis,
Rod Modell,
The Monks,
James White and The Blacks,
Dawn Penn,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
10cc,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Gang of Four,
Freddie Wadling,
Juan Atkins,
Minnie Riperton,
Jeff Lynne,
Mandrill,
Maurizio,
David McCallum,
Radiohead,
Hardrive,
Crooked Eye,
Judy Mowatt,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sight & Sound,
DJ Sneak,
Crash Course in Science,
Reagan Youth,
Marine Girls,
Index,
Metal Thangz,
Chris & Cosey,
Oblivians,
Supertramp,
Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones.
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.