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 Accra.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Warsaw to the techno 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 Echo & the Bunnymen. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra Arkestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amazonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Music Machine,
Jandek,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ice-T,
Davy DMX,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Avey Tare,
Terry Callier,
Lightning Bolt,
Stereo Dub,
Jesper Dahlback,
Roxy Music,
Morten Harket,
48th St. Collective,
Au Pairs,
Cal Tjader,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Youth Brigade,
Brick,
John Coltrane,
Radio Birdman,
Magazine,
X-Ray Spex,
Symarip,
Kenny Larkin,
Arthur Verocai,
Masters at Work,
Outsiders,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Sound,
Intrusion,
Sun City Girls,
The Gladiators,
Alison Limerick,
Ronnie Foster,
Wolf Eyes,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Hardrive,
U.S. Maple,
Fad Gadget,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Moody Blues,
Glambeats Corp.,
Royal Trux,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
This Heat,
Minny Pops,
D'Angelo,
Camberwell Now,
Yellowson,
The Monks,
Porter Ricks,
Bluetip,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sandy B,
Kool Moe Dee,
T.S.O.L.,
H. Thieme,
Tommy Roe,
Howard Jones,
The Martian,
Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid.
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.