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 China 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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the güiro 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 Litter to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Dark Day. All the underground hits.
All Cluster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Severed Heads record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bauhaus,
Barclay James Harvest,
Gabor Szabo,
Lightning Bolt,
UT,
Desert Stars,
Glenn Branca,
JFA,
Supertramp,
Harry Pussy,
Mo-Dettes,
Gang of Four,
Aswad,
James White and The Blacks,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Spoonie Gee,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Wasted Youth,
Porter Ricks,
Jeru the Damaja,
Drive Like Jehu,
8 Eyed Spy,
Magma,
the Slits,
Franke,
Crash Course in Science,
Marcia Griffiths,
Laurel Aitken,
Cybotron,
the Bar-Kays,
Half Japanese,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Jawbox,
Hardrive,
Simply Red,
The Residents,
Scan 7,
Arcadia,
Sixth Finger,
Leonard Cohen,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Fifty Foot Hose,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
John Cale,
Rapeman,
Letta Mbulu,
Oneida,
Eric Dolphy,
The Cramps,
The Martian,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Gap Band,
Stiv Bators,
Rod Modell,
Sonic Youth,
The Saints,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
These Immortal Souls,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Audionom,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Schoolly D,
Lower 48,
Erasure, Erasure, Erasure, Erasure.
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.