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 Brazil and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 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 Oneida to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Accadde A. All the underground hits.
All The Pretty Things tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crash Course in Science record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slackers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Model 500,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
CMW,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Spoonie Gee,
F. McDonald,
The Electric Prunes,
The Mojo Men,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Human League,
The Fuzztones,
Gang of Four,
One Last Wish,
Alison Limerick,
Erykah Badu,
Shuggie Otis,
Negative Approach,
The Raincoats,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
AZ,
Slick Rick,
Wally Richardson,
Sugar Minott,
Hot Snakes,
The Busters,
The Fortunes,
Malaria!,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Remains,
The Misunderstood,
Liliput,
T. Rex,
Byron Stingily,
Cameo,
Maleditus Sound,
Bobby Hutcherson,
David McCallum,
Tears for Fears,
Flash Fearless,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Toasters,
Shoche,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Dorothy Ashby,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Pussy Galore,
Ronan,
Bobby Womack,
Ronnie Foster,
Lungfish,
Half Japanese,
Pole,
Lindisfarne,
Easy Going,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Faraquet,
Nils Olav,
Albert Ayler,
Moss Icon,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers.
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.