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 Liberia and from Seoul.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 sitar 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 Radio Birdman to the grime 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 Charles Mingus. All the underground hits.
All Adolescents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harpers Bizarre record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sister Nancy,
The Star Department,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Thompson Twins,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
the Association,
The Cowsills,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Rod Modell,
Jerry's Kids,
Janne Schatter,
48th St. Collective,
Quantec,
Rakim,
Pulsallama,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Stetsasonic,
Fat Boys,
the Human League,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sparks,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Moby Grape,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Raincoats,
kango's stein massive,
David McCallum,
Von Mondo,
Peter & Gordon,
Andrew Hill,
R.M.O.,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Gabor Szabo,
Surgeon,
Stiv Bators,
Lebanon Hanover,
Jacob Miller,
Newcleus,
Nik Kershaw,
Heaven 17,
The Angels of Light,
E-Dancer,
Supertramp,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Kayak,
Basic Channel,
Warsaw,
The Sound,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Circle Jerks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Jeff Mills,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Silicon Teens,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Don Cherry,
Lyres,
Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus.
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.