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 Bahamas 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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the marimba 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 Liliput to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band. All the underground hits.
All La Düsseldorf tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smoke 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Royal Trux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moody Blues,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Country Teasers,
Fluxion,
Pole,
Spandau Ballet,
Deadbeat,
Duran Duran,
Joy Division,
Niagra,
Judy Mowatt,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Brick,
Talk Talk,
Eurythmics,
Rod Modell,
Gang Gang Dance,
Tim Buckley,
Hashim,
Cal Tjader,
Depeche Mode,
Pussy Galore,
Shoche,
The Dead C,
David Bowie,
Sparks,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Red Krayola,
Arthur Verocai,
Babytalk,
the Swans,
Inner City,
Flipper,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Stockholm Monsters,
Dave Gahan,
Hot Snakes,
Steve Hackett,
Jesper Dahlback,
Tubeway Army,
The Blackbyrds,
The Kinks,
Ronnie Foster,
The Remains,
Jerry's Kids,
Sarah Menescal,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The United States of America,
Clear Light,
The Martian,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Eric Dolphy,
Pylon,
The Moleskins,
Ludus,
a-ha,
cv313,
Pantaleimon,
Massinfluence,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Panda Bear,
Lalann, Lalann, Lalann, Lalann.
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.