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 Monaco and from Johannesburg.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 Sonics to the funk 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 Wolf Eyes. All the underground hits.
All Reuben Wilson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lungfish 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wolf Eyes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe 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?
Pole,
Bobby Sherman,
Todd Rundgren,
John Holt,
Funky Four + One,
X-102,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Hasil Adkins,
Procol Harum,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The American Breed,
X-Ray Spex,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Monolake,
Interpol,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Gerry Rafferty,
Scratch Acid,
DJ Sneak,
Liliput,
Jesper Dahlback,
Black Flag,
Wings,
The Human League,
Derrick May,
Nas,
Roger Hodgson,
Inner City,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Modern Lovers,
Chris & Cosey,
DNA,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Bronski Beat,
Al Stewart,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Gabor Szabo,
The Doors,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Five Americans,
The Raincoats,
Absolute Body Control,
Drive Like Jehu,
Reagan Youth,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Livin' Joy,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Roy Ayers,
Malaria!,
Michelle Simonal,
The Knickerbockers,
Junior Murvin,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Robert Wyatt,
Hoover,
Moby Grape,
Juan Atkins,
Howard Jones,
ABBA,
The United States of America,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman.
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.