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 Swaziland and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Shadows of Knight to the crunk 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 Public Image Ltd.. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Newcleus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alphaville,
Tropical Tobacco,
Harmonia,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ten City,
Althea and Donna,
Henry Cow,
The Cure,
Ohio Players,
Altered Images,
Inner City,
Toni Rubio,
The Motions,
the Human League,
Minny Pops,
Connie Case,
Symarip,
EPMD,
Gregory Isaacs,
Aaron Thompson,
Johnny Clarke,
Jimmy McGriff,
AZ,
The Doors,
Ponytail,
Nirvana,
Vainqueur,
Delta 5,
Smog,
Desert Stars,
Boogie Down Productions,
This Heat,
One Last Wish,
H. Thieme,
These Immortal Souls,
Section 25,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Cal Tjader,
Groovy Waters,
Ronan,
The Birthday Party,
Hoover,
Lee Hazlewood,
Chris Corsano,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Darondo,
Eden Ahbez,
Eric B and Rakim,
Maleditus Sound,
Yaz,
The Beau Brummels,
The Move,
Au Pairs,
Blossom Toes,
Mark Hollis,
Mars,
Maurizio,
Hashim,
Terrestrial Tones,
Skriet,
The Last Poets,
Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster.
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.