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 Kiribati and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 MC5 to the electroclash 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 Shoche. All the underground hits.
All The Mummies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drive Like Jehu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jimmy McGriff,
Hoover,
Pylon,
Black Sheep,
Sister Nancy,
Stereo Dub,
Nick Fraelich,
Mission of Burma,
Massinfluence,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ornette Coleman,
Bootsy Collins,
Alphaville,
Gang Gang Dance,
Kerri Chandler,
The Index,
Jesper Dahlback,
Archie Shepp,
The Moody Blues,
Kenny Larkin,
the Swans,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
X-101,
New York Dolls,
Simply Red,
Harry Pussy,
The Star Department,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Buckinghams,
John Lydon,
Gil Scott Heron,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Blossom Toes,
David Axelrod,
Eden Ahbez,
Colin Newman,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sam Rivers,
T. Rex,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Vainqueur,
Ultravox,
Yusef Lateef,
Von Mondo,
Boz Scaggs,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Oneida,
Alison Limerick,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Five Americans,
Robert Wyatt,
Spandau Ballet,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Leaves,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
8 Eyed Spy,
Susan Cadogan,
Tears for Fears,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Brand Nubian,
Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell.
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.