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 Morocco and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 guitar 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 World's Most to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Roxette. All the underground hits.
All Alphaville tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fela Kuti 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 Remains record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jawbox,
The Vogues,
The Blues Magoos,
Deepchord,
The Misunderstood,
Ponytail,
Minny Pops,
Surgeon,
Dawn Penn,
Radio Birdman,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Motorama,
Fela Kuti,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Be Bop Deluxe,
David McCallum,
Josef K,
Sandy B,
MDC,
The Mummies,
Duran Duran,
Thee Headcoats,
The Kinks,
Neu!,
JFA,
The Names,
the Fania All-Stars,
Rapeman,
Gichy Dan,
Con Funk Shun,
New Order,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Move,
R.M.O.,
Wire,
Mary Jane Girls,
Prince Buster,
The Detroit Cobras,
Q65,
Accadde A,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Traffic Nightmare,
Althea and Donna,
Trumans Water,
Aaron Thompson,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Spandau Ballet,
Nils Olav,
Janne Schatter,
Wings,
Mr. Review,
John Lydon,
Arab on Radar,
Procol Harum,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Terry Callier,
The Associates,
Gabor Szabo,
Delta 5,
Heaven 17,
Harmonia,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.