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 Afghanistan and from Milan.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 rhodes 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 Steve Hackett 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 The Count Five. All the underground hits.
All Brass Construction tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jawbox record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swell Maps,
Dual Sessions,
The Fire Engines,
Ultra Naté,
Whodini,
Angry Samoans,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Count Five,
Goldenarms,
Fad Gadget,
Peter and Kerry,
Kas Product,
Mad Mike,
Yellowson,
Slave,
Banda Bassotti,
Malaria!,
K-Klass,
Slick Rick,
Pere Ubu,
Kurtis Blow,
Ossler,
Peter & Gordon,
Nirvana,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Can,
Sandy B,
Pylon,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lightning Bolt,
Arab on Radar,
The Grass Roots,
Bobby Byrd,
Shuggie Otis,
Jeru the Damaja,
Yaz,
Surgeon,
Icehouse,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Toasters,
These Immortal Souls,
Accadde A,
the Germs,
Y Pants,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Last Poets,
Sixth Finger,
The Walker Brothers,
Ronnie Foster,
The Names,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Fela Kuti,
Bizarre Inc.,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Basic Channel,
Warsaw,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Tropical Tobacco,
Glambeats Corp.,
Moebius,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.