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 Equatorial Guinea 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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Gang Gang Dance to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Offenders. All the underground hits.
All Goldenarms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Index record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glenn Branca record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Index,
Subhumans,
The Barracudas,
The Sound,
The Moody Blues,
H. Thieme,
Pharoah Sanders,
La Düsseldorf,
Lower 48,
Boz Scaggs,
The Gories,
The Flesh Eaters,
Camouflage,
Kas Product,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Joe Finger,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Moebius,
Nils Olav,
Slave,
The Pretty Things,
Rapeman,
John Cale,
Brick,
Sarah Menescal,
10cc,
The Dirtbombs,
The Monochrome Set,
PIL,
Unwound,
Harmonia,
Crooked Eye,
Arab on Radar,
Joe Smooth,
DJ Style,
Ice-T,
KRS-One,
Todd Rundgren,
Hoover,
The Modern Lovers,
Minutemen,
Panda Bear,
Eurythmics,
Rakim,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Eddi Front,
Fear,
Swell Maps,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Martian,
The Beau Brummels,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
the Soft Cell,
Pulsallama,
Silicon Teens,
Sam Rivers,
Alton Ellis,
Angry Samoans,
The Toasters,
The Residents,
Los Fastidios,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry.
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.