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 Morocco and from Copenhagen.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the guitar 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 Buckinghams to the techno 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux. All the underground hits.
All Bob Dylan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glambeats Corp. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Swans,
The Skatalites,
John Coltrane,
the Association,
Carl Craig,
Kerrie Biddell,
Rod Modell,
Visage,
The Black Dice,
EPMD,
Lucky Dragons,
The Alarm Clocks,
Glenn Branca,
New York Dolls,
Donny Hathaway,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Eli Mardock,
The Raincoats,
Q and Not U,
The Monks,
The Techniques,
ABC,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Moleskins,
The Cowsills,
The United States of America,
Clear Light,
The Motions,
Monks,
The Gladiators,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Arthur Verocai,
Crash Course in Science,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Groovy Waters,
Jesper Dahlback,
Faraquet,
Bill Near,
Bobby Womack,
The Doors,
Byron Stingily,
It's A Beautiful Day,
the Bar-Kays,
The Trojans,
Bush Tetras,
Buzzcocks,
Hasil Adkins,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
John Cale,
The Grass Roots,
Spandau Ballet,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Magazine,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Goldenarms,
Judy Mowatt,
Tom Boy,
Derrick Morgan,
Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens.
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.