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 Vanuatu and from Mexico City.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 chamberlin 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 Man Parrish to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Dave Clark Five. All the underground hits.
All Pagans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlbäck 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angels of Light & Akron/Family record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Simply Red,
Icehouse,
D'Angelo,
Pagans,
The Standells,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
X-Ray Spex,
Deakin,
Sun Ra,
Amon Düül,
Von Mondo,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Nils Olav,
Spandau Ballet,
Ronnie Foster,
Arab on Radar,
Rosa Yemen,
Malaria!,
MDC,
Neil Young,
Prince Buster,
Kaleidoscope,
David McCallum,
Sandy B,
James White and The Blacks,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Stetsasonic,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Surgeon,
Ken Boothe,
Howard Jones,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Terrestrial Tones,
Youth Brigade,
The Leaves,
Joy Division,
Steve Hackett,
The Red Krayola,
The Golliwogs,
Mr. Review,
Goldenarms,
Dual Sessions,
Sällskapet,
Jeff Mills,
The Slits,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Victims,
Outsiders,
Hashim,
Schoolly D,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Funky Four + One,
Yazoo,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Evens,
These Immortal Souls,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Patti Smith,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Index, The Index, The Index, The Index.
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.