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 Switzerland and from Bologna.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the marimba 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 Echo & the Bunnymen to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All Gregory Isaacs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantytec record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jandek,
Lalo Schifrin,
David Bowie,
The Invisible,
Ten City,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Whodini,
China Crisis,
Bill Near,
The Neon Judgement,
The Cure,
The Mojo Men,
A Certain Ratio,
Darondo,
Sparks,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
H. Thieme,
Peter & Gordon,
The Modern Lovers,
Byron Stingily,
The Sound,
Pulsallama,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
K-Klass,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Kerrie Biddell,
Goldenarms,
Skaos,
Ohio Players,
Eric Copeland,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Big Daddy Kane,
Unwound,
The Five Americans,
Infiniti,
Desert Stars,
Gastr Del Sol,
Barbara Tucker,
Man Parrish,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Rufus Thomas,
Drexciya,
Little Man,
Sandy B,
Glenn Branca,
Crispian St. Peters,
David McCallum,
Negative Approach,
Johnny Clarke,
Gang Gang Dance,
the Sonics,
Make Up,
Delta 5,
The Selecter,
The Busters,
Idris Muhammad,
Letta Mbulu,
Sugar Minott,
Kaleidoscope,
Pere Ubu,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.