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 Ireland and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
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 Man Eating Sloth to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Grass Roots. All the underground hits.
All Graham Central Station tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reagan Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fugazi,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Ten City,
The Cowsills,
Model 500,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Joy Division,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Beau Brummels,
Pere Ubu,
Steve Hackett,
Eve St. Jones,
EPMD,
Erasure,
The Divine Comedy,
Half Japanese,
The Alarm Clocks,
Second Layer,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Human League,
Hardrive,
Animal Collective,
Main Source,
Kaleidoscope,
Young Marble Giants,
The Victims,
Country Teasers,
The Last Poets,
Smog,
Howard Jones,
Spoonie Gee,
Yusef Lateef,
The Names,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Tropical Tobacco,
X-Ray Spex,
Mantronix,
Sister Nancy,
Stereo Dub,
Cluster,
Zapp,
Jacques Brel,
Bush Tetras,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Index,
Ultra Naté,
Lalann,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Crooked Eye,
Sandy B,
Tom Boy,
Unrelated Segments,
Scientists,
The Toasters,
The J.B.'s,
Cecil Taylor,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Archie Shepp,
Con Funk Shun,
Lalo Schifrin,
Jeff Mills,
Ituana, Ituana, Ituana, Ituana.
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.