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 Suriname and from Shanghai.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Louis and Bebe Barron to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Suburban Knight. All the underground hits.
All The Skatalites tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eddi Front 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
Gong,
Tomorrow,
Bill Near,
The Mummies,
The Blackbyrds,
Zapp,
Clear Light,
Average White Band,
B.T. Express,
The Five Americans,
Dual Sessions,
Fear,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
DJ Sneak,
Theoretical Girls,
Alphaville,
In Retrospect,
Quantec,
The Star Department,
Crispy Ambulance,
Steve Hackett,
Bob Dylan,
Mad Mike,
Quando Quango,
Camouflage,
Tom Boy,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Moody Blues,
Scan 7,
Stiv Bators,
The Pop Group,
Derrick May,
Thee Headcoats,
Barclay James Harvest,
Joey Negro,
Popol Vuh,
Minny Pops,
Urselle,
The Gun Club,
The Red Krayola,
Nick Fraelich,
Pere Ubu,
Sonic Youth,
Fugazi,
the Sonics,
Jesper Dahlback,
Underground Resistance,
Arcadia,
Sarah Menescal,
Radiopuhelimet,
the Normal,
Peter & Gordon,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Soul II Soul,
The Blues Magoos,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.