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 Sierra Leone and from Manila.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
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 Niagra to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Scan 7. All the underground hits.
All The Barracudas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Symarip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s 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 Freddie Wadling record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stetsasonic,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Dirtbombs,
Howard Jones,
Wolf Eyes,
Letta Mbulu,
Alton Ellis,
Desert Stars,
Sex Pistols,
Arthur Verocai,
Eric Dolphy,
The Moleskins,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Connie Case,
Scratch Acid,
Black Moon,
The Smoke,
X-Ray Spex,
Wings,
the Swans,
Toni Rubio,
Ponytail,
Sexual Harrassment,
Chris & Cosey,
Franke,
Bauhaus,
Flamin' Groovies,
The American Breed,
Y Pants,
the Slits,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Soul Sonic Force,
Grey Daturas,
Ludus,
The Martian,
The Residents,
Grandmaster Flash,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
MDC,
Intrusion,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Make Up,
X-102,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Gories,
Eve St. Jones,
The Black Dice,
Archie Shepp,
Malaria!,
Alphaville,
Drexciya,
Youth Brigade,
Ultra Naté,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Vainqueur,
K-Klass,
Fear,
Kaleidoscope,
Subhumans,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.