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 Dominica and from Jakarta.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Boz Scaggs to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Gang Gang Dance. All the underground hits.
All Vaughan Mason & Crew tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skriet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Panda Bear,
OOIOO,
Crime,
The Fire Engines,
Junior Murvin,
Interpol,
Jerry's Kids,
Surgeon,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Silicon Teens,
Eric Dolphy,
Index,
Mantronix,
Yusef Lateef,
Desert Stars,
New York Dolls,
Faust,
the Human League,
Drive Like Jehu,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Hot Snakes,
Popol Vuh,
John Cale,
Eric Copeland,
Absolute Body Control,
Johnny Clarke,
Darondo,
Joy Division,
Half Japanese,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Angels of Light,
L. Decosne,
Terrestrial Tones,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Boz Scaggs,
The American Breed,
Maurizio,
The Slackers,
Duran Duran,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Avey Tare,
Gong,
Roxette,
Mr. Review,
The Monochrome Set,
Peter and Kerry,
EPMD,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Warren Ellis,
Bobby Womack,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Harry Pussy,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Guru Guru,
Barry Ungar,
The Divine Comedy,
Agent Orange,
Kerrie Biddell,
Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti.
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.