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 Panama and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Flesh Eaters to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 DNA. All the underground hits.
All Man Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marine Girls 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Buckinghams record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faraquet,
Pole,
Lindisfarne,
Con Funk Shun,
Niagra,
Pantytec,
Mission of Burma,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Man Parrish,
New York Dolls,
Sandy B,
Organ,
The Shadows of Knight,
Kerri Chandler,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Theoretical Girls,
Sexual Harrassment,
Barry Ungar,
Depeche Mode,
T. Rex,
Excepter,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Q65,
Reagan Youth,
Dead Boys,
Aaron Thompson,
David Bowie,
The Blackbyrds,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Roxette,
Boredoms,
Altered Images,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Scion,
June Days,
The Busters,
Albert Ayler,
Skriet,
Jeff Lynne,
Lakeside,
Chrome,
Quantec,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Eric Dolphy,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Blancmange,
Television Personalities,
The Vogues,
The Fortunes,
The Doors,
Marmalade,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Donny Hathaway,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Eli Mardock,
Letta Mbulu,
Can,
The Skatalites,
Blake Baxter,
Liliput,
Darondo,
The Monks,
The Standells, The Standells, The Standells, The Standells.
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.