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 South Africa and from Manchester.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 guitar 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 Dawn Penn to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Lindisfarne. All the underground hits.
All The Cosmic Jokers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Byron Stingily record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare,
AZ,
Suburban Knight,
Matthew Halsall,
X-Ray Spex,
Mars,
the Association,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Negative Approach,
Robert Wyatt,
Suicide,
The Motions,
The Buckinghams,
The Fortunes,
Dark Day,
The Move,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Knickerbockers,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ultra Naté,
Nirvana,
Lindisfarne,
Agitation Free,
Sexual Harrassment,
F. McDonald,
Danielle Patucci,
Arcadia,
Subhumans,
Marc Almond,
Jeff Mills,
The Toasters,
Qualms,
Fear,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Moleskins,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lalann,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Walker Brothers,
Sun City Girls,
Harry Pussy,
The Litter,
Oneida,
Ronan,
Todd Terry,
The Cramps,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Monks,
Tim Buckley,
The Blues Magoos,
Boredoms,
The Doors,
Organ,
Sonic Youth,
Man Parrish,
The Neon Judgement,
The Evens,
Tubeway Army,
Tom Boy,
Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly.
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.