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 Russia and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 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 Fifty Foot Hose 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 D'Angelo. All the underground hits.
All Adolescents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Piero Umiliani record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thompson Twins,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Slave,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Donald Byrd,
Arab on Radar,
Smog,
The Vogues,
The American Breed,
Excepter,
Brick,
Flamin' Groovies,
Pantaleimon,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Joe Finger,
JFA,
Procol Harum,
The Red Krayola,
Lungfish,
Altered Images,
Cybotron,
Swans,
The Martian,
Rufus Thomas,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Eddi Front,
AZ,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Soft Machine,
Suicide,
Barry Ungar,
Minor Threat,
Hoover,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
OOIOO,
Tubeway Army,
David McCallum,
Saccharine Trust,
Ponytail,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Chrome,
Lebanon Hanover,
Echospace,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Sonics,
PIL,
Deadbeat,
Circle Jerks,
Pussy Galore,
Icehouse,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Isaac Hayes,
John Foxx,
Reagan Youth,
Absolute Body Control,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Moebius,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Black Dice,
Warren Ellis,
Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell.
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.