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 Czech Republic and from Toronto.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the oboe 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 The Modern Lovers 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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All The Victims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Holt 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Shadows of Knight,
The Evens,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Brothers Johnson,
Altered Images,
Anthony Braxton,
Soft Machine,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bluetip,
Make Up,
Fad Gadget,
Soulsonic Force,
the Germs,
Alison Limerick,
Supertramp,
Aaron Thompson,
Bobby Byrd,
Blossom Toes,
Ice-T,
Skriet,
Jawbox,
The J.B.'s,
David Axelrod,
Black Bananas,
Todd Terry,
The Move,
The Black Dice,
Pierre Henry,
Warsaw,
Bootsy Collins,
Fugazi,
Excepter,
Jeru the Damaja,
Urselle,
Charles Mingus,
Sam Rivers,
DJ Sneak,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Zeros,
Monolake,
The American Breed,
Tom Boy,
Second Layer,
Steve Hackett,
Sex Pistols,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Eric Copeland,
Rod Modell,
Andrew Hill,
Freddie Wadling,
Nirvana,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Neon Judgement,
kango's stein massive,
Sound Behaviour,
Quadrant,
D'Angelo,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Litter,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.