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 Papua New Guinea 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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 snare 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 The Wake to the punk 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 Grauzone. All the underground hits.
All Mo-Dettes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Model 500 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 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moebius,
Electric Prunes,
Ronan,
Kerrie Biddell,
Massinfluence,
Youth Brigade,
Ponytail,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Blossom Toes,
Amon Düül II,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Grey Daturas,
Mad Mike,
Jacques Brel,
Robert Görl,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Y Pants,
Scrapy,
The Doors,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Con Funk Shun,
Pet Shop Boys,
Deadbeat,
Patti Smith,
The Sonics,
Joe Smooth,
The Slits,
The Pop Group,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lebanon Hanover,
Von Mondo,
Johnny Clarke,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Royal Trux,
Eden Ahbez,
Don Cherry,
Index,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Jerry's Kids,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Cybotron,
H. Thieme,
Sound Behaviour,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
ABBA,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
MC5,
John Cale,
Gang Starr,
OOIOO,
Sex Pistols,
Man Eating Sloth,
Monks,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Moody Blues,
Eric Copeland,
The Cowsills,
Pagans,
The Detroit Cobras,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster.
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.