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 Luxembourg and from Winnipeg.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Michelle Simonal to the grunge 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 The Monks. All the underground hits.
All Derrick Morgan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sparks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Albert Ayler,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Talk Talk,
Minnie Riperton,
The Vogues,
Arcadia,
Susan Cadogan,
The Tremeloes,
Sound Behaviour,
Funky Four + One,
Procol Harum,
Bang On A Can,
U.S. Maple,
Lindisfarne,
Brand Nubian,
Mark Hollis,
The Star Department,
Cluster,
The Litter,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Dual Sessions,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Durutti Column,
David Bowie,
Joensuu 1685,
Leonard Cohen,
Marvin Gaye,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Soft Machine,
The Wake,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
48th St. Collective,
Ossler,
Arthur Verocai,
Average White Band,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
a-ha,
Glambeats Corp.,
Crime,
Hot Snakes,
Chrome,
Funkadelic,
Inner City,
Marshall Jefferson,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Remains,
Minutemen,
Amon Düül II,
Jawbox,
Surgeon,
Blossom Toes,
The Alarm Clocks,
Siglo XX,
the Swans,
Soul Sonic Force,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Adolescents,
The Gap Band,
Sex Pistols,
Tres Demented,
Excepter,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.