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 Germany and from Salvador.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 arpeggiator 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 Electric Prunes to the punk 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 Warsaw. All the underground hits.
All Minutemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every E-Dancer record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Barracudas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Osbourne,
The Neon Judgement,
The Moody Blues,
Duran Duran,
Eurythmics,
Flash Fearless,
Yaz,
Q65,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bush Tetras,
Pierre Henry,
Pole,
The Index,
L. Decosne,
Slick Rick,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bad Manners,
Soul II Soul,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Barrington Levy,
New Age Steppers,
Funky Four + One,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Monochrome Set,
Aloha Tigers,
Kas Product,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Andrew Hill,
Hot Snakes,
Electric Prunes,
Joey Negro,
Ultra Naté,
Ralphi Rosario,
Davy DMX,
Glenn Branca,
Maleditus Sound,
Fluxion,
The Tremeloes,
Bauhaus,
Barry Ungar,
Terrestrial Tones,
Howard Jones,
Black Flag,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Suicide,
Fela Kuti,
Parry Music,
Supertramp,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Prince Buster,
Siglo XX,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Harpers Bizarre,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Cluster,
Piero Umiliani,
Deepchord,
The Beau Brummels,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids.
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.