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 Libya and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Hong Kong.
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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Lou Christie 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 The Fortunes. All the underground hits.
All T.S.O.L. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Absolute Body Control record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Patti Smith,
Section 25,
Kayak,
Monks,
The Gun Club,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Smoke,
Stockholm Monsters,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Von Mondo,
Jeff Lynne,
Scott Walker,
The Mummies,
Dark Day,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Underground Resistance,
The Kinks,
Grey Daturas,
Animal Collective,
The Buckinghams,
Ultravox,
Jeff Mills,
Roxette,
Eden Ahbez,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gang Gang Dance,
David Axelrod,
Young Marble Giants,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Buzzcocks,
Eric B and Rakim,
DJ Style,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bizarre Inc.,
John Foxx,
Blake Baxter,
Suicide,
Aswad,
The Slackers,
Jimmy McGriff,
Agent Orange,
The New Christs,
Zero Boys,
Aaron Thompson,
Kas Product,
Harry Pussy,
Bootsy Collins,
Quadrant,
Hardrive,
Dorothy Ashby,
Flash Fearless,
Magazine,
The Angels of Light,
James White and The Blacks,
Camberwell Now,
John Cale,
The Doobie Brothers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Harmonia,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.