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 Morocco and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 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 Sun City Girls to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Nico. All the underground hits.
All Sight & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bluetip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Y Pants,
Marcia Griffiths,
Graham Central Station,
Michelle Simonal,
Duran Duran,
Camberwell Now,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Alison Limerick,
Sun City Girls,
Ultravox,
Lyres,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Maleditus Sound,
a-ha,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Rufus Thomas,
Thompson Twins,
Moby Grape,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lalann,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Zeros,
Nico,
The Smiths,
Rites of Spring,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ossler,
Bang On A Can,
David McCallum,
Althea and Donna,
Agitation Free,
The Dave Clark Five,
Curtis Mayfield,
Terry Callier,
The Pretty Things,
Arab on Radar,
Gerry Rafferty,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Fatback Band,
Howard Jones,
Jeff Lynne,
Blake Baxter,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
CMW,
Josef K,
Cluster,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Rekid,
Barclay James Harvest,
Man Parrish,
Amazonics,
Judy Mowatt,
the Bar-Kays,
Cal Tjader,
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow.
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.