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 Jamaica and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 marimba 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 Glambeats Corp. to the crunk 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 Minutemen. All the underground hits.
All Circle Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultravox record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erasure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Pet Shop Boys,
Niagra,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Seeds,
Fear,
Sugar Minott,
Gerry Rafferty,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Subhumans,
Roxette,
Fela Kuti,
Supertramp,
Alice Coltrane,
Scratch Acid,
The Fortunes,
A Certain Ratio,
FM Einheit,
The Victims,
The Pretty Things,
Derrick Morgan,
The Trojans,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Deakin,
U.S. Maple,
Bobby Sherman,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Jacob Miller,
Soul II Soul,
Colin Newman,
Nick Fraelich,
Sun City Girls,
The Red Krayola,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Dirtbombs,
The Mummies,
Intrusion,
Spandau Ballet,
David McCallum,
Aaron Thompson,
Yaz,
Lucky Dragons,
the Fania All-Stars,
Warren Ellis,
Lakeside,
Marmalade,
Grauzone,
Popol Vuh,
The Searchers,
Skarface,
Reagan Youth,
Mary Jane Girls,
Rites of Spring,
Can,
Howard Jones,
Quantec,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Japan,
The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones.
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.