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 Kiribati and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Avey Tare to the punk 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 Harpers Bizarre. All the underground hits.
All The Stooges tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Max Romeo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Cale,
Delta 5,
Max Romeo,
Sonic Youth,
Marmalade,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Soft Machine,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Lalann,
The Neon Judgement,
Donald Byrd,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
LL Cool J,
Kenny Larkin,
Archie Shepp,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Buzzcocks,
Darondo,
Albert Ayler,
Television Personalities,
Sam Rivers,
Massinfluence,
Essential Logic,
Reuben Wilson,
Charles Mingus,
Swell Maps,
Funky Four + One,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Brick,
The Offenders,
Camberwell Now,
Stetsasonic,
Glenn Branca,
Bobby Sherman,
Con Funk Shun,
Minor Threat,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Tremeloes,
The Gladiators,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Blackbyrds,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Pole,
Underground Resistance,
Lower 48,
Silicon Teens,
Guru Guru,
Ituana,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Siglo XX,
Clear Light,
Moby Grape,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sun Ra,
Yazoo,
Derrick May,
The Young Rascals,
Sun City Girls,
Roxette, Roxette, Roxette, Roxette.
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.