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 Congo and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 snare 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 Black Flag to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Eden Ahbez. All the underground hits.
All Outsiders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gian Franco Pienzio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Wells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Byrd,
Bootsy Collins,
The Seeds,
Das Ding,
Deakin,
Todd Rundgren,
Banda Bassotti,
Subhumans,
Pantaleimon,
a-ha,
Supertramp,
Soul Sonic Force,
Fatback Band,
Arab on Radar,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Gang of Four,
Derrick May,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Black Sheep,
Quadrant,
Drexciya,
Inner City,
K-Klass,
Model 500,
Magazine,
Rapeman,
Pulsallama,
Essential Logic,
Colin Newman,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Walker Brothers,
Severed Heads,
Suburban Knight,
Scion,
Slave,
John Cale,
Skaos,
The Cure,
John Foxx,
Zapp,
The Cowsills,
Ultimate Spinach,
Marvin Gaye,
Goldenarms,
Darondo,
The Black Dice,
Minny Pops,
Nation of Ulysses,
F. McDonald,
The Stooges,
The Golliwogs,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
John Holt,
Tommy Roe,
The Red Krayola,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Move,
the Slits,
Big Daddy Kane,
Crispian St. Peters,
Junior Murvin,
Negative Approach, Negative Approach, Negative Approach, Negative Approach.
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.