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 Zambia and from Jakarta.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the oboe 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 Jerry's Kids to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Inner City. All the underground hits.
All Idris Muhammad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Last Poets record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Invisible record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
World's Most,
Qualms,
Rakim,
Eve St. Jones,
The Beau Brummels,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Symarip,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Matthew Bourne,
Terry Callier,
Radiohead,
X-102,
Lakeside,
Moebius,
the Slits,
Man Parrish,
Radiopuhelimet,
Crooked Eye,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Godley & Creme,
The Golliwogs,
The Cowsills,
Monks,
Roxette,
Circle Jerks,
Alphaville,
Pagans,
Siglo XX,
Suburban Knight,
Prince Buster,
New Order,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sight & Sound,
Absolute Body Control,
Brick,
Jawbox,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Audionom,
Half Japanese,
Camberwell Now,
Bronski Beat,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Zapp,
The Martian,
Sexual Harrassment,
Loose Ends,
Desert Stars,
June Days,
X-Ray Spex,
Steve Hackett,
The Knickerbockers,
The J.B.'s,
DJ Sneak,
These Immortal Souls,
Liliput,
Fat Boys,
The Blues Magoos,
Skarface,
Grandmaster Flash,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.