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 Chad and from Lyon.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 The Tremeloes to the grunge 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 Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Mr. Review tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tom Boy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pylon,
Sarah Menescal,
Amon Düül II,
Minny Pops,
The Mojo Men,
Mission of Burma,
Deakin,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Technova,
The Angels of Light,
The Cure,
Kerrie Biddell,
Pantaleimon,
The Monochrome Set,
Faraquet,
Avey Tare,
Con Funk Shun,
Maleditus Sound,
The Index,
Sound Behaviour,
PIL,
Eden Ahbez,
48th St. Collective,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Y Pants,
Vladislav Delay,
Matthew Bourne,
Rod Modell,
Barry Ungar,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Fugs,
Trumans Water,
Minutemen,
Yusef Lateef,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
10cc,
Tears for Fears,
Oblivians,
Eurythmics,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Mummies,
Arab on Radar,
Jeff Mills,
Kayak,
UT,
Joensuu 1685,
The Durutti Column,
Essential Logic,
Dawn Penn,
a-ha,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ralphi Rosario,
Kevin Saunderson,
Warren Ellis,
Rotary Connection,
Pantytec,
Gang Green,
Mr. Review,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Pulsallama,
the Sonics,
Shuggie Otis,
Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day.
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.