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 Bolivia 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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Brothers Johnson to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Sugar Minott. All the underground hits.
All The Toasters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Traffic Nightmare record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Graham Central Station record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warsaw,
Terry Callier,
Nils Olav,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Simply Red,
Nas,
Bobby Byrd,
Guru Guru,
Alphaville,
Marine Girls,
Sex Pistols,
The Black Dice,
Faraquet,
Motorama,
Flipper,
Amon Düül,
Althea and Donna,
Das Ding,
Pere Ubu,
Pantytec,
Rites of Spring,
T. Rex,
The Angels of Light,
The Pretty Things,
The Gun Club,
Parry Music,
Bauhaus,
The Slackers,
The Human League,
The Saints,
Qualms,
Piero Umiliani,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Hot Snakes,
Rakim,
Arthur Verocai,
B.T. Express,
the Soft Cell,
Lebanon Hanover,
Eli Mardock,
Swans,
Sarah Menescal,
Bang On A Can,
Eurythmics,
Yaz,
Nik Kershaw,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lou Reed,
Neil Young,
D'Angelo,
The Cramps,
Joy Division,
Goldenarms,
Frankie Knuckles,
KRS-One,
Spoonie Gee,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Rosa Yemen,
Nico,
Roy Ayers,
Grauzone,
The Residents, The Residents, The Residents, The Residents.
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.