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 Cyprus and from Johannesburg.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar 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 The Doors to the dance 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 The New Christs. All the underground hits.
All Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Fania All-Stars,
Sam Rivers,
The Trojans,
Janne Schatter,
R.M.O.,
Inner City,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Technova,
48th St. Collective,
Soul II Soul,
Country Teasers,
Bob Dylan,
Charles Mingus,
MDC,
Funkadelic,
New Age Steppers,
The Move,
Lightning Bolt,
Flash Fearless,
Audionom,
Subhumans,
Unwound,
Kayak,
Davy DMX,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Blake Baxter,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Echospace,
The Happenings,
Bush Tetras,
Can,
Black Sheep,
Motorama,
Warsaw,
Rod Modell,
Hasil Adkins,
Pantytec,
The Last Poets,
Frankie Knuckles,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Velvet Underground,
F. McDonald,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Glambeats Corp.,
Cymande,
Mark Hollis,
Hot Snakes,
Blancmange,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Nick Fraelich,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Scan 7,
Neil Young,
Black Moon,
Half Japanese,
The Five Americans,
Howard Jones,
Eden Ahbez,
Steve Hackett,
Lucky Dragons,
Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad.
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.