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 Qatar and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 clarinet 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 Ten City to the rock 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 John Lydon. All the underground hits.
All Red Lorry Yellow Lorry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siouxsie and the Banshees record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dawn Penn,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Dead C,
Joey Negro,
Wasted Youth,
Robert Hood,
the Germs,
Yazoo,
Underground Resistance,
Charles Mingus,
Flipper,
Easy Going,
Franke,
The United States of America,
the Bar-Kays,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Technova,
Index,
The Modern Lovers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Techniques,
Lyres,
Roger Hodgson,
Royal Trux,
MC5,
The Neon Judgement,
Black Moon,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sixth Finger,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Wally Richardson,
Ken Boothe,
Blossom Toes,
The Cure,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Anthony Braxton,
Niagra,
Groovy Waters,
Graham Central Station,
Duran Duran,
Kerri Chandler,
These Immortal Souls,
Nik Kershaw,
Electric Prunes,
Kool Moe Dee,
the Normal,
ABC,
The Slits,
Zapp,
Peter and Kerry,
Kurtis Blow,
Fluxion,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Rod Modell,
Talk Talk,
Davy DMX,
Delta 5,
Rekid,
The Electric Prunes,
Gregory Isaacs,
Con Funk Shun,
Johnny Clarke,
Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange.
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.