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 Costa Rica and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Gladiators to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Happenings. All the underground hits.
All Drive Like Jehu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minny Pops 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sound Behaviour record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Don Cherry,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Doors,
Iggy Pop,
The Martian,
Cameo,
Roy Ayers,
Royal Trux,
Marmalade,
Young Marble Giants,
Jacques Brel,
Zapp,
Fort Wilson Riot,
New Age Steppers,
Oblivians,
Archie Shepp,
The Fugs,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Brand Nubian,
Buzzcocks,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Neil Young,
Adolescents,
The Five Americans,
Sight & Sound,
Fat Boys,
Scott Walker,
Spandau Ballet,
Angry Samoans,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Neu!,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Smiths,
Chris Corsano,
Yusef Lateef,
Junior Murvin,
Depeche Mode,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sällskapet,
Radiopuhelimet,
Scientists,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Youth Brigade,
Lindisfarne,
Lou Christie,
Harry Pussy,
X-102,
Steve Hackett,
Delta 5,
Boogie Down Productions,
Gastr Del Sol,
Stetsasonic,
Second Layer,
Absolute Body Control,
The Techniques,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Black Bananas,
Technova,
New Order,
Little Man,
Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk.
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.