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 Micronesia and from Milan.
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 Houston and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 chamberlin 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 Stockholm Monsters to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Kerri Chandler. All the underground hits.
All Moss Icon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boogie Down Productions 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispy Ambulance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
Soul II Soul,
The Moody Blues,
Vladislav Delay,
The American Breed,
Cheater Slicks,
Sun City Girls,
Public Image Ltd.,
Rod Modell,
Wasted Youth,
Scion,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Scan 7,
Royal Trux,
Nick Fraelich,
The Gun Club,
Ohio Players,
Brass Construction,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
John Coltrane,
Peter & Gordon,
Grauzone,
Pere Ubu,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Black Moon,
Fugazi,
Harmonia,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Gladiators,
Lower 48,
Symarip,
Chris & Cosey,
F. McDonald,
The Index,
Radiohead,
Tom Boy,
Jimmy McGriff,
Janne Schatter,
Circle Jerks,
Bill Near,
Con Funk Shun,
Frankie Knuckles,
Flamin' Groovies,
Hot Snakes,
ABBA,
Niagra,
Blossom Toes,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Standells,
Bobby Sherman,
Y Pants,
Interpol,
T.S.O.L.,
Japan,
Avey Tare,
Tubeway Army,
Slave,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.