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 Ivory Coast and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Curtis Mayfield to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Nico tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bush Tetras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Christie,
Harmonia,
The Detroit Cobras,
8 Eyed Spy,
T. Rex,
Stetsasonic,
Scientists,
Steve Hackett,
Severed Heads,
The Misunderstood,
FM Einheit,
Parry Music,
Kerrie Biddell,
Cheater Slicks,
Ossler,
K-Klass,
Rapeman,
The Doors,
Josef K,
Joey Negro,
Ohio Players,
Skaos,
Camouflage,
Erasure,
Zapp,
Harpers Bizarre,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ultravox,
Minny Pops,
The Gun Club,
The Techniques,
Black Moon,
Leonard Cohen,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Bobby Sherman,
kango's stein massive,
Fluxion,
X-102,
Average White Band,
The Names,
Michelle Simonal,
Delon & Dalcan,
Los Fastidios,
Al Stewart,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Leaves,
Drexciya,
Bush Tetras,
Boredoms,
Trumans Water,
The Zeros,
June of 44,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
This Heat,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Henry Cow,
Aloha Tigers,
The Slits,
Yellowson,
Dave Gahan,
Section 25,
Roxette, Roxette, Roxette, Roxette.
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.