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 Indonesia and from Winnipeg.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Magma to the grunge 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 Trumans Water. All the underground hits.
All Glambeats Corp. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Inner City 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arab on Radar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
Rapeman,
Radiohead,
Man Eating Sloth,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Leonard Cohen,
Roger Hodgson,
Nils Olav,
Sexual Harrassment,
PIL,
F. McDonald,
Clear Light,
The Alarm Clocks,
Delon & Dalcan,
Aural Exciters,
Pantytec,
The Five Americans,
Panda Bear,
Section 25,
Severed Heads,
James White and The Blacks,
Sällskapet,
Sex Pistols,
Pantaleimon,
Bizarre Inc.,
Roy Ayers,
Gil Scott Heron,
Minutemen,
Sun City Girls,
Darondo,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
John Holt,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Boz Scaggs,
The Flesh Eaters,
Nirvana,
Wire,
Dawn Penn,
Adolescents,
Rotary Connection,
Man Parrish,
Scratch Acid,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lakeside,
Heaven 17,
Janne Schatter,
Anakelly,
Oneida,
The Monochrome Set,
Alice Coltrane,
Glenn Branca,
Popol Vuh,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Quantec,
Derrick May,
T. Rex,
The Golliwogs,
David Axelrod,
Deepchord,
Roxette,
Judy Mowatt,
Kurtis Blow,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.