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 Germany and from Beijing.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Make Up to the jazz 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 Desert Stars. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Duran Duran record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Judy Mowatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Niagra,
the Association,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Fugs,
The Cowsills,
Wally Richardson,
Wire,
Royal Trux,
T. Rex,
Motorama,
Massinfluence,
Main Source,
Stetsasonic,
Liliput,
Livin' Joy,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bauhaus,
UT,
Lungfish,
The Durutti Column,
Lightning Bolt,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Byron Stingily,
Robert Hood,
Kerrie Biddell,
Alphaville,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The New Christs,
Yellowson,
Surgeon,
Sex Pistols,
Dead Boys,
Duran Duran,
The Blues Magoos,
Kaleidoscope,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Joy Division,
Von Mondo,
Nation of Ulysses,
Henry Cow,
Suburban Knight,
Guru Guru,
Stiv Bators,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Y Pants,
Sparks,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
In Retrospect,
Parry Music,
Erykah Badu,
Saccharine Trust,
Dual Sessions,
Bob Dylan,
Popol Vuh,
Juan Atkins,
These Immortal Souls,
F. McDonald,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai.
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.