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 Liechtenstein and from Shanghai.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Charles Mingus to the rap 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 T.S.O.L.. All the underground hits.
All Spoonie Gee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Louis and Bebe Barron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Oblivians,
Eric Dolphy,
Isaac Hayes,
The Detroit Cobras,
Barrington Levy,
Easy Going,
The Associates,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Kerri Chandler,
Joy Division,
Hasil Adkins,
Delta 5,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Qualms,
Davy DMX,
Sun City Girls,
cv313,
Suicide,
Gichy Dan,
Bobby Byrd,
David Bowie,
The Busters,
Pierre Henry,
Aloha Tigers,
The Motions,
Moebius,
The Raincoats,
Fatback Band,
Max Romeo,
Siglo XX,
Shoche,
DJ Sneak,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ituana,
Grauzone,
Yaz,
10cc,
Tears for Fears,
Scrapy,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Severed Heads,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gerry Rafferty,
Zapp,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Misunderstood,
Aswad,
the Germs,
Gil Scott Heron,
Nick Fraelich,
Pole,
Brass Construction,
Susan Cadogan,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Moss Icon,
The Velvet Underground,
Wally Richardson,
Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme.
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.