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 South Africa and from Delhi.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
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 Qualms to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Subhumans. All the underground hits.
All The United States of America tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Finger 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Loose Ends record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Parry Music,
Fear,
Icehouse,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Nik Kershaw,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Brass Construction,
The New Christs,
Nils Olav,
cv313,
Lebanon Hanover,
Shoche,
Eli Mardock,
Johnny Clarke,
The Sound,
Alice Coltrane,
Stereo Dub,
Faraquet,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Matthew Halsall,
Jacob Miller,
Y Pants,
Dark Day,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Pop Group,
Amon Düül,
Pagans,
Minor Threat,
Rites of Spring,
The Modern Lovers,
Josef K,
Ultra Naté,
Public Image Ltd.,
the Soft Cell,
Lou Christie,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Slits,
Thee Headcoats,
Quando Quango,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
the Human League,
Tim Buckley,
Arcadia,
Reagan Youth,
Blancmange,
Interpol,
Altered Images,
The Alarm Clocks,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Residents,
The Divine Comedy,
Mo-Dettes,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sound Behaviour,
Oblivians,
Nation of Ulysses,
Robert Hood,
The Martian,
Camberwell Now,
Motorama,
Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17.
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.