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 Ethiopia 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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Johnny Clarke to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Scan 7. All the underground hits.
All a-ha tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Bar-Kays record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Trumans Water,
Joy Division,
The Walker Brothers,
Black Moon,
Kerri Chandler,
Kas Product,
Marine Girls,
Archie Shepp,
Mad Mike,
DNA,
The Cowsills,
Lalann,
Ken Boothe,
Todd Rundgren,
Crooked Eye,
Supertramp,
Eli Mardock,
The Flesh Eaters,
Alton Ellis,
Crash Course in Science,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Interpol,
Ultravox,
Parry Music,
Hot Snakes,
Moebius,
The Blues Magoos,
KRS-One,
Kenny Larkin,
Tubeway Army,
Faust,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Anthony Braxton,
Sam Rivers,
The Sonics,
Clear Light,
Judy Mowatt,
Silicon Teens,
Jawbox,
Boz Scaggs,
Susan Cadogan,
Ludus,
Nik Kershaw,
Buzzcocks,
Pagans,
Hashim,
Bob Dylan,
Rod Modell,
Index,
Barbara Tucker,
Qualms,
Gerry Rafferty,
K-Klass,
X-102,
Jacques Brel,
The Happenings,
Reuben Wilson,
Main Source,
Talk Talk,
Duran Duran,
Nirvana,
DJ Style,
Kerrie Biddell,
the Human League, the Human League, the Human League, the Human League.
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.