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 United States and from Madrid.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Stockholm.
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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Q and Not U to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Charles Mingus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ituana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marcia Griffiths,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Black Pus,
Sex Pistols,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Funkadelic,
Crime,
the Germs,
Agent Orange,
Roy Ayers,
Delon & Dalcan,
8 Eyed Spy,
Chrome,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Oneida,
Scott Walker,
Laurel Aitken,
the Bar-Kays,
Ten City,
Sunsets and Hearts,
T.S.O.L.,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Golliwogs,
Minutemen,
Steve Hackett,
Ultra Naté,
Deakin,
La Düsseldorf,
Judy Mowatt,
Jeru the Damaja,
Alice Coltrane,
Gang Green,
Shuggie Otis,
Camberwell Now,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Smiths,
Johnny Clarke,
Erykah Badu,
Surgeon,
Oblivians,
The Sonics,
The Slackers,
Joey Negro,
Das Ding,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Big Daddy Kane,
Scratch Acid,
The American Breed,
John Cale,
Moby Grape,
Delta 5,
Cameo,
Terry Callier,
Audionom,
Reagan Youth,
Kerrie Biddell,
Black Flag,
Spandau Ballet,
DJ Sneak,
Charles Mingus,
DNA,
Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon.
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.