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 Gambia and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 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 Jacques Brel to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Todd Rundgren. All the underground hits.
All Gary Puckett & The Union Gap tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nik Kershaw record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 June Days record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Move,
the Bar-Kays,
Lou Reed,
Cameo,
Wasted Youth,
Prince Buster,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Jacob Miller,
the Association,
Banda Bassotti,
Quantec,
Steve Hackett,
Ronan,
Cluster,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Ossler,
Bob Dylan,
Interpol,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Rufus Thomas,
Zero Boys,
Liliput,
Eric Copeland,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Johnny Clarke,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Neon Judgement,
Von Mondo,
FM Einheit,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Icehouse,
Agitation Free,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Charles Mingus,
Buzzcocks,
KRS-One,
Gang of Four,
Au Pairs,
Procol Harum,
The Blues Magoos,
Underground Resistance,
D'Angelo,
H. Thieme,
Mission of Burma,
June of 44,
Black Bananas,
Moebius,
Big Daddy Kane,
Altered Images,
The Happenings,
Anakelly,
Nas,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Slits,
Theoretical Girls,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Neil Young,
Boredoms,
Stereo Dub,
Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger.
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.