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 New Zealand and from Salvador.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the güiro 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Wally Richardson. All the underground hits.
All Tres Demented tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sisters of Mercy 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a This Heat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cure,
Eric Dolphy,
Q65,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Swell Maps,
Infiniti,
Glenn Branca,
The Standells,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Altered Images,
Funkadelic,
Metal Thangz,
Rotary Connection,
Schoolly D,
Television Personalities,
LL Cool J,
Simply Red,
Mandrill,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Barracudas,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
MC5,
Depeche Mode,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Public Image Ltd.,
Slave,
Swans,
Talk Talk,
Davy DMX,
Gastr Del Sol,
Marcia Griffiths,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
John Holt,
Sparks,
John Lydon,
Lightning Bolt,
Wasted Youth,
Janne Schatter,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Pantytec,
Yazoo,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Happenings,
Hot Snakes,
Peter & Gordon,
EPMD,
Grandmaster Flash,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Skatalites,
Motorama,
Crispy Ambulance,
Con Funk Shun,
The Zeros,
Gil Scott Heron,
Y Pants,
Unrelated Segments,
The Slits,
Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh.
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.