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 Korea North and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Paris.
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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Vainqueur to the funk 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 Au Pairs. All the underground hits.
All The Peanut Butter Conspiracy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Symarip 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quadrant record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
AZ,
Buzzcocks,
The Blackbyrds,
Dead Boys,
Circle Jerks,
Byron Stingily,
Roxette,
Agitation Free,
Wings,
The Seeds,
ABC,
Don Cherry,
Dawn Penn,
Symarip,
The Red Krayola,
Funkadelic,
Letta Mbulu,
The Dave Clark Five,
Terry Callier,
The Tremeloes,
Maurizio,
Aaron Thompson,
The Victims,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Unwound,
Groovy Waters,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Index,
The Offenders,
Shoche,
Faraquet,
The Mummies,
Sex Pistols,
Beasts of Bourbon,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Deadbeat,
Tears for Fears,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Scrapy,
Pierre Henry,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Josef K,
Blake Baxter,
New York Dolls,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Camberwell Now,
Fela Kuti,
Stereo Dub,
Gregory Isaacs,
Scott Walker,
Lee Hazlewood,
Technova,
Reagan Youth,
Ronnie Foster,
Ronan,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Misunderstood,
The Doors,
Godley & Creme,
Archie Shepp,
the Slits,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.