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 United States and from Sao Paulo.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the clarinet 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 In Retrospect 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 Crime. All the underground hits.
All Eric Copeland tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tears for Fears record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Smog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Iggy Pop,
Alice Coltrane,
Mo-Dettes,
Vainqueur,
Niagra,
Yellowson,
B.T. Express,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Alton Ellis,
Nico,
This Heat,
Zero Boys,
Joey Negro,
Pussy Galore,
Lee Hazlewood,
Peter & Gordon,
H. Thieme,
Shoche,
The Blues Magoos,
Derrick May,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Bronski Beat,
Soul II Soul,
Fear,
Pantaleimon,
Warsaw,
Jacques Brel,
The Knickerbockers,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Ice-T,
Anakelly,
Sugar Minott,
Hot Snakes,
The Golliwogs,
Porter Ricks,
Ultravox,
Grey Daturas,
Fat Boys,
The Leaves,
Deakin,
Sight & Sound,
Dawn Penn,
Minutemen,
The Martian,
The Techniques,
Unrelated Segments,
Nik Kershaw,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lucky Dragons,
Agent Orange,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Slackers,
Tropical Tobacco,
Amon Düül,
The Residents,
Kayak,
The Cowsills,
Amon Düül II,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Goldenarms,
The Toasters,
Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding.
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.