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 Kuwait and from Shanghai.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Avey Tare to the rock 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 The Angels of Light. All the underground hits.
All Fad Gadget tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & John Cale 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Loose Ends,
Lucky Dragons,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Babytalk,
The Fire Engines,
The Fortunes,
a-ha,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Los Fastidios,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Monks,
Tropical Tobacco,
Tommy Roe,
Alice Coltrane,
The Angels of Light,
Hoover,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Little Man,
The Slits,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Essential Logic,
Bluetip,
Tomorrow,
Outsiders,
In Retrospect,
The Fuzztones,
Scan 7,
Cluster,
Alton Ellis,
Suicide,
John Foxx,
Funkadelic,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Minutemen,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Au Pairs,
Faraquet,
The Tremeloes,
Lyres,
Wolf Eyes,
Fluxion,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Saccharine Trust,
The Evens,
B.T. Express,
The Toasters,
Eli Mardock,
Groovy Waters,
Vladislav Delay,
The Beau Brummels,
The Sonics,
Sun City Girls,
Andrew Hill,
The Modern Lovers,
Sällskapet,
Sugar Minott,
The Motions,
Rakim,
Mars,
Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna.
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.