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 Mauritius and from Tehran.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 sitar 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 The Tremeloes to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All Boogie Down Productions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Frankie Knuckles record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a La Düsseldorf record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Metal Thangz,
The Kinks,
Marmalade,
The Smoke,
Matthew Bourne,
Reuben Wilson,
Suburban Knight,
Laurel Aitken,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Slackers,
Arthur Verocai,
the Fania All-Stars,
Mission of Burma,
Warren Ellis,
Ponytail,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Rakim,
Quadrant,
Buzzcocks,
Flash Fearless,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Techniques,
The Count Five,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Eli Mardock,
Porter Ricks,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Pagans,
Franke,
One Last Wish,
The Victims,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Dark Day,
Chrome,
Bob Dylan,
Pantytec,
the Association,
Letta Mbulu,
Swans,
Lyres,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Residents,
Gil Scott Heron,
Charles Mingus,
Jandek,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Monks,
The Divine Comedy,
Ituana,
Connie Case,
Brothers Johnson,
Masters at Work,
Derrick Morgan,
the Soft Cell,
Harmonia,
The Blues Magoos,
Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus.
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.