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 Pakistan and from Stockholm.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Ultramagnetic MC's to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Blues Magoos. All the underground hits.
All Eyeless In Gaza tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suburban Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eden Ahbez,
the Association,
Section 25,
Lyres,
Tubeway Army,
Bizarre Inc.,
Robert Görl,
Suicide,
Sexual Harrassment,
Audionom,
A Certain Ratio,
Depeche Mode,
David Bowie,
Scratch Acid,
Gichy Dan,
Iggy Pop,
Joy Division,
New York Dolls,
Pierre Henry,
Jeff Mills,
Kayak,
The Motions,
Ultravox,
Leonard Cohen,
Silicon Teens,
Aswad,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Davy DMX,
Lalo Schifrin,
Jerry's Kids,
Neil Young,
Amazonics,
The Buckinghams,
Sugar Minott,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Seeds,
LL Cool J,
CMW,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Dawn Penn,
DJ Sneak,
The Residents,
Lee Hazlewood,
Rosa Yemen,
Toni Rubio,
Terrestrial Tones,
Swell Maps,
Bauhaus,
Mars,
The Gun Club,
a-ha,
Ludus,
Bill Near,
Scrapy,
Black Flag,
Alphaville,
the Fania All-Stars,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Human League,
Whodini,
Brick,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.