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 Sweden and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 organ 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 Severed Heads to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Glenn Branca. All the underground hits.
All Motorama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Real Kids,
Marmalade,
Matthew Halsall,
The Birthday Party,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
48th St. Collective,
Ohio Players,
The Gladiators,
Michelle Simonal,
This Heat,
Radiopuhelimet,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Tres Demented,
Groovy Waters,
Eric B and Rakim,
Stockholm Monsters,
Derrick May,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Das Ding,
Half Japanese,
Pantytec,
Donald Byrd,
Spoonie Gee,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Residents,
Index,
Suburban Knight,
In Retrospect,
The Mummies,
Cymande,
Jandek,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Pierre Henry,
Smog,
David Axelrod,
Metal Thangz,
Quadrant,
Don Cherry,
Boz Scaggs,
Scratch Acid,
Pulsallama,
AZ,
Tomorrow,
Rotary Connection,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Patti Smith,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Simply Red,
CMW,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Bizarre Inc.,
Vladislav Delay,
Japan,
The American Breed,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lyres,
Wasted Youth,
the Association,
the Swans,
Sex Pistols,
John Cale,
The Doors, The Doors, The Doors, The Doors.
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.