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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Portland.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Glasgow.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Stereo Dub to the punk 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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All The Dead C tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T.S.O.L. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Royal Trux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ronnie Foster,
Wasted Youth,
Godley & Creme,
Banda Bassotti,
The Monks,
a-ha,
MC5,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Desert Stars,
Qualms,
The Blackbyrds,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Black Moon,
Derrick Morgan,
Motorama,
Ituana,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Parry Music,
Popol Vuh,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Visage,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Alison Limerick,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
T. Rex,
Pagans,
Khruangbin,
Rapeman,
Bob Dylan,
Duran Duran,
Skaos,
Unwound,
Zero Boys,
Tommy Roe,
Tim Buckley,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Soul II Soul,
The Victims,
The Shadows of Knight,
John Lydon,
Faraquet,
Minutemen,
Black Sheep,
Lou Christie,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Mantronix,
Mary Jane Girls,
Eve St. Jones,
These Immortal Souls,
Zapp,
Morten Harket,
Monolake,
Warsaw,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple.
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.