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 Somalia and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Dawn Penn. All the underground hits.
All Blancmange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ralphi Rosario record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Royal Family And The Poor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aswad,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ultimate Spinach,
Agent Orange,
kango's stein massive,
The Fuzztones,
Scientists,
The Stooges,
Janne Schatter,
Youth Brigade,
The Cure,
Theoretical Girls,
Mark Hollis,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Alton Ellis,
Fugazi,
The Buckinghams,
Al Stewart,
The Golliwogs,
Angry Samoans,
Idris Muhammad,
Robert Görl,
Subhumans,
Yellowson,
Make Up,
E-Dancer,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
John Cale,
Sister Nancy,
Grey Daturas,
The Count Five,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Mr. Review,
Blancmange,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Donald Byrd,
Second Layer,
Nas,
Camouflage,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Neil Young,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bobby Sherman,
Joy Division,
Television,
Unrelated Segments,
The American Breed,
Eric B and Rakim,
Drexciya,
Organ,
T. Rex,
The Dirtbombs,
Loose Ends,
Kas Product,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Avey Tare,
The Music Machine,
R.M.O.,
The Slackers,
Absolute Body Control,
Eric Copeland,
Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army.
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.