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 Columbus.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Seoul.
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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Thee Headcoats to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 H. Thieme. All the underground hits.
All Quantec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Steve Hackett record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glenn Branca,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sällskapet,
Lalo Schifrin,
Crispy Ambulance,
Joe Finger,
John Lydon,
Sugar Minott,
KRS-One,
Bobby Womack,
Cecil Taylor,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Trojans,
Glambeats Corp.,
Banda Bassotti,
DNA,
the Bar-Kays,
Bush Tetras,
Byron Stingily,
Subhumans,
Iggy Pop,
Royal Trux,
Soft Cell,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Suicide,
Letta Mbulu,
Visage,
Gil Scott Heron,
Talk Talk,
Bauhaus,
Pet Shop Boys,
Hasil Adkins,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Tommy Roe,
Model 500,
Bobby Byrd,
Sly & The Family Stone,
the Soft Cell,
Shoche,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
La Düsseldorf,
Crash Course in Science,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sun City Girls,
Ultimate Spinach,
Jawbox,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
B.T. Express,
the Slits,
These Immortal Souls,
Mantronix,
Warsaw,
Electric Prunes,
Niagra,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sarah Menescal,
Minutemen,
Sam Rivers,
Pole,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers.
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.