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 Somalia and from Calgary.
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 Stockholm and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Camberwell Now to the punk 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 Youth Brigade. All the underground hits.
All Jawbox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warsaw 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wolf Eyes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blackbyrds,
Pussy Galore,
A Flock of Seagulls,
T.S.O.L.,
The Remains,
Skriet,
Crash Course in Science,
The Birthday Party,
Rites of Spring,
Trumans Water,
Bobby Womack,
Cheater Slicks,
Archie Shepp,
the Swans,
X-Ray Spex,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Ten City,
The Offenders,
Sugar Minott,
Jeff Lynne,
Sun Ra,
Alphaville,
Faraquet,
Joey Negro,
Q and Not U,
Wally Richardson,
The Dave Clark Five,
Royal Trux,
Scientists,
K-Klass,
Warsaw,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Mojo Men,
Ice-T,
Das Ding,
The Walker Brothers,
Flamin' Groovies,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
ABBA,
John Holt,
Traffic Nightmare,
Rakim,
A Certain Ratio,
Jacques Brel,
The Divine Comedy,
Charles Mingus,
Lou Reed,
David McCallum,
Camberwell Now,
Big Daddy Kane,
Stiv Bators,
This Heat,
Infiniti,
Patti Smith,
Model 500,
Anakelly,
Thompson Twins,
Absolute Body Control,
Gastr Del Sol,
Lee Hazlewood,
Lower 48, Lower 48, Lower 48, Lower 48.
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.