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 Cambodia 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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Alarm Clocks to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Velvet Underground. All the underground hits.
All T. Rex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Womack record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warsaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Jacques Brel,
Fatback Band,
Section 25,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Divine Comedy,
James White and The Blacks,
Spoonie Gee,
Wolf Eyes,
Freddie Wadling,
Throbbing Gristle,
Rotary Connection,
The Gun Club,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
H. Thieme,
David Bowie,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Fear,
Stockholm Monsters,
Saccharine Trust,
Reuben Wilson,
Sandy B,
The Wake,
Slick Rick,
Lakeside,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Barracudas,
Parry Music,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Standells,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Robert Hood,
Public Image Ltd.,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Aural Exciters,
Thee Headcoats,
The Cure,
Joe Smooth,
Supertramp,
The Last Poets,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Monks,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sarah Menescal,
Ultimate Spinach,
James Chance & The Contortions,
La Düsseldorf,
Arthur Verocai,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Suburban Knight,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Tremeloes,
The Smiths,
The Sound,
Lucky Dragons,
Tropical Tobacco,
Hasil Adkins,
Liliput,
Ohio Players,
Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti.
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.