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 Mozambique and from Edmonton.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Sexual Harrassment to the rap 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 X-102. All the underground hits.
All R.M.O. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nik Kershaw record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Golliwogs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Offenders,
The Real Kids,
Flash Fearless,
Wings,
The Evens,
The New Christs,
Harry Pussy,
KRS-One,
Drexciya,
Interpol,
Mark Hollis,
Deepchord,
Minor Threat,
Boogie Down Productions,
Susan Cadogan,
The Red Krayola,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Tres Demented,
Thee Headcoats,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Sound,
The Cowsills,
Colin Newman,
Bang On A Can,
F. McDonald,
Mission of Burma,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Saccharine Trust,
Glenn Branca,
Underground Resistance,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sound Behaviour,
Amon Düül II,
Easy Going,
Angry Samoans,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sonic Youth,
Tommy Roe,
Lightning Bolt,
Buzzcocks,
The Searchers,
Sarah Menescal,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Pussy Galore,
The Moody Blues,
Gang Green,
The Dirtbombs,
Alice Coltrane,
Rites of Spring,
Soul II Soul,
Japan,
Zero Boys,
Grey Daturas,
Q65,
Gabor Szabo,
Yellowson,
Electric Prunes,
Bobby Hutcherson,
John Lydon,
Bobby Sherman,
Simply Red,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.