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 Bhutan and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Unwound to the dance 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 Public Enemy. All the underground hits.
All The Modern Lovers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cabaret Voltaire 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Alarm Clocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tropical Tobacco,
Monks,
Gerry Rafferty,
the Normal,
Tubeway Army,
Y Pants,
Parry Music,
Gang Starr,
John Cale,
Porter Ricks,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Roger Hodgson,
Rufus Thomas,
The Residents,
E-Dancer,
Can,
Gregory Isaacs,
In Retrospect,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Jeff Mills,
Ultimate Spinach,
Black Moon,
Mr. Review,
Funkadelic,
The Gun Club,
The Music Machine,
Johnny Osbourne,
John Holt,
JFA,
Dorothy Ashby,
Au Pairs,
Mars,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Deadbeat,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sonny Sharrock,
Organ,
Suburban Knight,
Grauzone,
OOIOO,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Susan Cadogan,
Bobby Byrd,
Pylon,
Rotary Connection,
Fear,
The Angels of Light,
Barrington Levy,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Tim Buckley,
Swell Maps,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Byron Stingily,
Delta 5,
Peter & Gordon,
Sound Behaviour,
David McCallum,
Spoonie Gee,
Camberwell Now,
The Vogues,
The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings.
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.