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 Nepal and from Jakarta.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 arpeggiator 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 Sugar Minott to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Average White Band. All the underground hits.
All Erasure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Image Ltd. 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Organ,
Interpol,
Andrew Hill,
Ronan,
8 Eyed Spy,
Eddi Front,
Curtis Mayfield,
Albert Ayler,
Section 25,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Marshall Jefferson,
Stockholm Monsters,
Wolf Eyes,
Moebius,
ABBA,
Steve Hackett,
DJ Sneak,
Pet Shop Boys,
Dual Sessions,
The Pretty Things,
Soul Sonic Force,
Lucky Dragons,
Symarip,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Cure,
The Stooges,
Rapeman,
Eden Ahbez,
Hoover,
The Doobie Brothers,
Metal Thangz,
Barrington Levy,
Camouflage,
The Barracudas,
Big Daddy Kane,
Pulsallama,
The Red Krayola,
Lyres,
Gichy Dan,
Mantronix,
Camberwell Now,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Vogues,
Johnny Clarke,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Slits,
China Crisis,
The Monochrome Set,
Idris Muhammad,
The Knickerbockers,
Neil Young,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Visage,
Chrome,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Mummies,
Mary Jane Girls,
Nils Olav,
Prince Buster,
Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood.
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.