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 Monaco and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 Bologna and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Bob Dylan to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Siouxsie and the Banshees. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yellowson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glenn Branca,
Vladislav Delay,
Crispian St. Peters,
Todd Rundgren,
X-Ray Spex,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Anakelly,
Echospace,
D'Angelo,
John Lydon,
Easy Going,
Stereo Dub,
Little Man,
Tropical Tobacco,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Thompson Twins,
The Tremeloes,
Rotary Connection,
The Star Department,
Inner City,
The Martian,
Sister Nancy,
Dawn Penn,
Wasted Youth,
Al Stewart,
Gang Gang Dance,
Scrapy,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Nils Olav,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
JFA,
Adolescents,
Jerry's Kids,
The United States of America,
Yaz,
The New Christs,
The Trojans,
Crooked Eye,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Radiohead,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Boredoms,
Simply Red,
The Happenings,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Mummies,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Lee Hazlewood,
Prince Buster,
Oneida,
Terrestrial Tones,
Second Layer,
Los Fastidios,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Wake,
Arab on Radar,
Henry Cow,
DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style.
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.