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 Bhutan and from Mexico City.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Seoul.
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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Ronnie Foster to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Outsiders. All the underground hits.
All The Doors tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Danielle Patucci record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fugazi record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doobie Brothers,
Eurythmics,
Saccharine Trust,
Unwound,
Clear Light,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Pulsallama,
Swans,
Monks,
JFA,
Ken Boothe,
Lou Christie,
DNA,
Robert Hood,
Amazonics,
Faust,
Adolescents,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Audionom,
T. Rex,
R.M.O.,
Rites of Spring,
Tears for Fears,
The Martian,
Girls At Our Best!,
Silicon Teens,
Kurtis Blow,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Delta 5,
John Holt,
the Germs,
Public Image Ltd.,
Theoretical Girls,
Yellowson,
Rakim,
Skaos,
Q and Not U,
Accadde A,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Jeff Mills,
The Remains,
Reuben Wilson,
Lungfish,
Von Mondo,
Bootsy Collins,
The Fall,
John Lydon,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Leonard Cohen,
The Last Poets,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Slits,
Average White Band,
Warsaw,
Aloha Tigers,
Gang Green,
Wasted Youth,
La Düsseldorf,
Bad Manners,
Dark Day,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.