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 Ethiopia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Johannesburg.
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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Marshall Jefferson to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Yazoo. All the underground hits.
All Skriet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Beau Brummels record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Birthday Party,
Blancmange,
Sister Nancy,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sandy B,
Bauhaus,
Animal Collective,
Stetsasonic,
Half Japanese,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Wake,
Bang On A Can,
Gong,
Cal Tjader,
Public Enemy,
Kaleidoscope,
The Star Department,
Boredoms,
Agitation Free,
Gang Green,
Barrington Levy,
Negative Approach,
Adolescents,
Glambeats Corp.,
Yusef Lateef,
Blossom Toes,
Bronski Beat,
The Martian,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Man Parrish,
Excepter,
The Motions,
Delon & Dalcan,
Isaac Hayes,
Eddi Front,
Blake Baxter,
Pussy Galore,
Index,
Eric B and Rakim,
Jacques Brel,
X-Ray Spex,
Ultra Naté,
Sex Pistols,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
In Retrospect,
Bluetip,
Mantronix,
Erasure,
Magazine,
Metal Thangz,
The Doors,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Marine Girls,
CMW,
Silicon Teens,
Swell Maps,
Cybotron,
Vladislav Delay,
Hoover,
Brand Nubian,
K-Klass,
Jandek,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.