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 Stockholm.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the güiro 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 Pere Ubu to the jazz 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 the Sonics. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unwound 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The New Christs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boredoms,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Basic Channel,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Freddie Wadling,
Roger Hodgson,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Monks,
Stetsasonic,
Saccharine Trust,
Pussy Galore,
Colin Newman,
Pylon,
Mandrill,
Cheater Slicks,
The Zeros,
June Days,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Shadows of Knight,
Roxette,
Con Funk Shun,
Audionom,
Hoover,
Erasure,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
the Germs,
the Swans,
Country Teasers,
The Smiths,
Nik Kershaw,
New York Dolls,
Flash Fearless,
The Blackbyrds,
Curtis Mayfield,
Brand Nubian,
Tom Boy,
Desert Stars,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Last Poets,
Minor Threat,
Severed Heads,
Morten Harket,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Little Man,
The Remains,
Ohio Players,
the Human League,
The Modern Lovers,
Fela Kuti,
Pulsallama,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Johnny Clarke,
The Detroit Cobras,
Smog,
The Misunderstood,
X-102,
Faust,
Minny Pops,
X-Ray Spex,
Oneida,
John Coltrane,
Donny Hathaway,
Eve St. Jones,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.