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 Belize and from Hong Kong.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 rhodes 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 U.S. Maple to the grunge 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 Laurel Aitken. All the underground hits.
All FM Einheit tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacob Miller record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shoche record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sarah Menescal,
Archie Shepp,
Suicide,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Red Krayola,
Blake Baxter,
Black Flag,
The Sonics,
The Shadows of Knight,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Pierre Henry,
the Swans,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Yellowson,
Ronnie Foster,
The Slits,
Girls At Our Best!,
Section 25,
Babytalk,
Black Bananas,
Ituana,
Avey Tare,
Bronski Beat,
The Zeros,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Gong,
Leonard Cohen,
Crooked Eye,
Tropical Tobacco,
Thompson Twins,
Magazine,
Porter Ricks,
Harry Pussy,
The Fall,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Zero Boys,
Kaleidoscope,
Peter & Gordon,
U.S. Maple,
Scrapy,
Y Pants,
Lee Hazlewood,
Robert Hood,
Reagan Youth,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Derrick May,
Mars,
Monolake,
The Smoke,
Eden Ahbez,
Anthony Braxton,
Henry Cow,
The Music Machine,
Can,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Mark Hollis,
R.M.O.,
Vladislav Delay,
Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes.
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.