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 India and from Edmonton.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the snare 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 Toni Rubio to the grime 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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish. All the underground hits.
All The Cosmic Jokers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gun Club,
Dead Boys,
The Residents,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Yusef Lateef,
R.M.O.,
The Doobie Brothers,
Donald Byrd,
Pierre Henry,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Eddi Front,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Joy Division,
Rod Modell,
The Durutti Column,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Dorothy Ashby,
F. McDonald,
Altered Images,
Jeff Mills,
Lalann,
Harmonia,
Hasil Adkins,
Avey Tare,
Robert Hood,
Nation of Ulysses,
Susan Cadogan,
Smog,
Sixth Finger,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Fad Gadget,
The Fall,
Rapeman,
Quantec,
Prince Buster,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Trumans Water,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
DNA,
Reagan Youth,
The Gories,
The Saints,
The Offenders,
Mo-Dettes,
Jawbox,
The Leaves,
The Tremeloes,
Gil Scott Heron,
Excepter,
the Human League,
Boz Scaggs,
Suicide,
Minutemen,
Delon & Dalcan,
Camouflage,
Royal Trux,
The Monks,
Bizarre Inc.,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Iggy Pop,
The Detroit Cobras,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks.
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.