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 Botswana and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 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 Fugazi to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-Ray Spex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cure,
Arab on Radar,
Ituana,
The Fortunes,
Joy Division,
Fluxion,
Crime,
Deadbeat,
Avey Tare,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Cymande,
Black Pus,
Lou Christie,
Prince Buster,
The Angels of Light,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Intrusion,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Barbara Tucker,
Judy Mowatt,
Scrapy,
Glenn Branca,
Bizarre Inc.,
Faust,
The Associates,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Lucky Dragons,
Sonic Youth,
The Cowsills,
the Human League,
Funky Four + One,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Archie Shepp,
Eurythmics,
Don Cherry,
Pole,
Black Sheep,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Zeros,
Lee Hazlewood,
Guru Guru,
The Blues Magoos,
Steve Hackett,
Malaria!,
David Bowie,
Eli Mardock,
Siglo XX,
Cal Tjader,
The Gun Club,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Brass Construction,
Gastr Del Sol,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Panda Bear,
Saccharine Trust,
Jimmy McGriff,
Lower 48,
Severed Heads,
The Detroit Cobras,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Buzzcocks,
Con Funk Shun,
Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17.
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.