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 Austria and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Donald Fagen 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 Sugar Minott to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Hoover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every La Düsseldorf record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Remains record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faust,
Blake Baxter,
Ten City,
The Sound,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Mojo Men,
June of 44,
Spandau Ballet,
The Grass Roots,
The Doobie Brothers,
Rod Modell,
A Certain Ratio,
Ronan,
Crispy Ambulance,
Hoover,
Sandy B,
Al Stewart,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
cv313,
Scion,
Peter & Gordon,
Silicon Teens,
John Coltrane,
Surgeon,
Massinfluence,
Scrapy,
Ralphi Rosario,
Section 25,
Goldenarms,
The Litter,
The Gun Club,
Newcleus,
Wire,
Thee Headcoats,
Mary Jane Girls,
Babytalk,
Bob Dylan,
Grauzone,
Kerrie Biddell,
Graham Central Station,
ABBA,
Marine Girls,
Harry Pussy,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
John Foxx,
Minnie Riperton,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Durutti Column,
AZ,
Todd Rundgren,
Radiohead,
Lou Reed,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Minny Pops,
The Star Department,
Josef K,
Yaz,
Althea and Donna,
Model 500,
Funkadelic,
The Sonics,
John Cale, John Cale, John Cale, John Cale.
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.