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 Malawi and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 harpsichord 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 Count Five to the jazz 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 Terrestrial Tones. All the underground hits.
All Dave Gahan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks 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 marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rufus Thomas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Youth Brigade,
The Motions,
Von Mondo,
The Skatalites,
The Happenings,
June Days,
K-Klass,
Deakin,
Mandrill,
Pole,
A Certain Ratio,
The Invisible,
Crash Course in Science,
The Golliwogs,
Patti Smith,
Scientists,
Arthur Verocai,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Q65,
Ronnie Foster,
Jerry's Kids,
Juan Atkins,
Hardrive,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Kerrie Biddell,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Joey Negro,
One Last Wish,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Dennis Brown,
T. Rex,
Sugar Minott,
Gang Starr,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Dark Day,
Black Bananas,
David McCallum,
Basic Channel,
Don Cherry,
Jimmy McGriff,
Neu!,
Mission of Burma,
Harpers Bizarre,
Tres Demented,
Barry Ungar,
Schoolly D,
Eddi Front,
Jacques Brel,
Monolake,
Tears for Fears,
Bill Near,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Pretty Things,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Amon Düül,
ABBA,
Fear,
Yusef Lateef,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade.
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.