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 Greece and from Calgary.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 sitar 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 Oppenheimer Analysis to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 DJ Sneak. All the underground hits.
All Minny Pops tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tubeway Army record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Henry Cow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smiths,
Albert Ayler,
Glenn Branca,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Gang Starr,
Kayak,
Quantec,
Swell Maps,
La Düsseldorf,
The Toasters,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Can,
Bobby Womack,
The Durutti Column,
Prince Buster,
Kenny Larkin,
Nils Olav,
Depeche Mode,
The Barracudas,
Lou Christie,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
the Bar-Kays,
Porter Ricks,
The Victims,
Patti Smith,
Arcadia,
The Remains,
Ultra Naté,
Little Man,
Excepter,
Country Teasers,
Amon Düül,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
the Fania All-Stars,
Supertramp,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Roger Hodgson,
Stiv Bators,
Sparks,
Robert Wyatt,
The Misunderstood,
Yaz,
Wasted Youth,
Max Romeo,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
MDC,
Underground Resistance,
OOIOO,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Radio Birdman,
Eric Dolphy,
X-Ray Spex,
Hashim,
ABC,
DJ Style,
David Bowie,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Sound,
Todd Rundgren,
Tomorrow,
Deadbeat,
Khruangbin,
Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse.
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.