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 Afghanistan and from Bremen.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
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 Bob Dylan to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 48th St. Collective. All the underground hits.
All The Cowsills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Icehouse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
Bobby Sherman,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Invisible,
the Association,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Zeros,
Buzzcocks,
Jeru the Damaja,
Piero Umiliani,
Isaac Hayes,
Scott Walker,
Minor Threat,
John Holt,
The Real Kids,
PIL,
a-ha,
The Sonics,
Judy Mowatt,
Grandmaster Flash,
Hardrive,
Television Personalities,
8 Eyed Spy,
Wasted Youth,
Pagans,
The Selecter,
Television,
The Fire Engines,
Barry Ungar,
Dead Boys,
Ohio Players,
Al Stewart,
Dorothy Ashby,
Albert Ayler,
Donny Hathaway,
Rotary Connection,
Inner City,
Unwound,
Stockholm Monsters,
Gong,
Suicide,
Depeche Mode,
Lungfish,
The Buckinghams,
U.S. Maple,
The Monochrome Set,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Donald Byrd,
Fear,
Au Pairs,
Q and Not U,
Gichy Dan,
The Standells,
Roxette,
Boredoms,
The Modern Lovers,
Amazonics,
Second Layer,
The Busters,
LL Cool J,
Magazine,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.