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 Romania and from Hong Kong.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Cairo.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Y Pants to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme. All the underground hits.
All L. Decosne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stetsasonic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Michelle Simonal record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mandrill,
The Velvet Underground,
kango's stein massive,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Y Pants,
Sugar Minott,
Thee Headcoats,
Tears for Fears,
Rapeman,
Television Personalities,
Charles Mingus,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Roxy Music,
The Martian,
Lakeside,
Terry Callier,
The Gories,
The New Christs,
Bootsy Collins,
Alphaville,
John Lydon,
Brick,
Danielle Patucci,
The Seeds,
Index,
Joy Division,
Josef K,
The Happenings,
Faust,
Rod Modell,
The Tremeloes,
Althea and Donna,
The Monks,
The Dirtbombs,
Interpol,
Sparks,
Newcleus,
The Flesh Eaters,
Japan,
Moby Grape,
Hoover,
Arcadia,
Davy DMX,
Tubeway Army,
Shoche,
Flipper,
Country Teasers,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
FM Einheit,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Grauzone,
Crash Course in Science,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Main Source,
Talk Talk,
Matthew Bourne,
Harmonia,
the Germs,
Buzzcocks,
Wally Richardson,
Chrome,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control.
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.