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 Burkina and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 synthesizer 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 Subhumans to the disco 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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band. All the underground hits.
All Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Second Layer record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doobie Brothers,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Red Krayola,
Tom Boy,
the Normal,
Sun Ra,
Duran Duran,
The Litter,
Mo-Dettes,
The Gladiators,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Colin Newman,
Marmalade,
Charles Mingus,
Eric Dolphy,
Darondo,
The Durutti Column,
Eve St. Jones,
Judy Mowatt,
The Fortunes,
DJ Sneak,
Girls At Our Best!,
Rhythm & Sound,
Mars,
10cc,
Magazine,
Tropical Tobacco,
Jawbox,
Minor Threat,
Japan,
Arthur Verocai,
Tres Demented,
Q and Not U,
Tears for Fears,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Walker Brothers,
Juan Atkins,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Prince Buster,
The Tremeloes,
Crooked Eye,
Organ,
Shuggie Otis,
Bush Tetras,
Average White Band,
Erasure,
Blossom Toes,
Gang Green,
Warren Ellis,
Eddi Front,
Sandy B,
The Shadows of Knight,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Khruangbin,
The J.B.'s,
Crash Course in Science,
Monks,
Bobby Womack,
Sister Nancy,
Pharoah Sanders,
Peter and Kerry,
Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis.
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.