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 Liechtenstein and from Taipei.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the organ 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 Intrusion to the dance 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 Rufus Thomas. All the underground hits.
All Altered Images tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacob Miller 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gladiators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Lightning Bolt,
the Association,
Blake Baxter,
Aural Exciters,
Von Mondo,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Shadows of Knight,
Quadrant,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Youth Brigade,
Buzzcocks,
The Birthday Party,
The Blackbyrds,
The Black Dice,
ABC,
James White and The Blacks,
Sex Pistols,
Audionom,
Todd Terry,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Dawn Penn,
The Vogues,
The Invisible,
Popol Vuh,
Swans,
Porter Ricks,
L. Decosne,
The Pretty Things,
Roxette,
Thompson Twins,
This Heat,
Rapeman,
Mr. Review,
Heaven 17,
Peter and Kerry,
X-Ray Spex,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Electric Prunes,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Minor Threat,
Reuben Wilson,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Skatalites,
Fugazi,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Flipper,
June of 44,
Marmalade,
Stereo Dub,
Moebius,
Sam Rivers,
DJ Sneak,
The Buckinghams,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Blues Magoos,
Ultimate Spinach,
Banda Bassotti,
The Neon Judgement,
Tom Boy,
Ohio Players,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.