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 Solomon Islands and from Columbus.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Jeru the Damaja to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All Dead Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cabaret Voltaire 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fuzztones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fort Wilson Riot,
Alton Ellis,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Cheater Slicks,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Remains,
8 Eyed Spy,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Tropical Tobacco,
Pet Shop Boys,
Make Up,
T.S.O.L.,
Glambeats Corp.,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Man Eating Sloth,
Oblivians,
U.S. Maple,
Khruangbin,
Agitation Free,
Robert Hood,
Radiohead,
Minor Threat,
Thee Headcoats,
Deadbeat,
Letta Mbulu,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Drexciya,
Q65,
Half Japanese,
Idris Muhammad,
Crime,
Lalann,
The Cramps,
Outsiders,
Joensuu 1685,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Kerri Chandler,
Youth Brigade,
Donny Hathaway,
Supertramp,
The Motions,
Patti Smith,
Scion,
Terry Callier,
Connie Case,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Gladiators,
Monks,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Sam Rivers,
Stiv Bators,
Cal Tjader,
Reagan Youth,
Eve St. Jones,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Doors,
X-102,
Sugar Minott,
Pagans,
EPMD,
The Associates,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Monolake,
The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party.
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.