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 Syria and from Lagos.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar 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 Sam Rivers to the funk 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 Pantytec. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Hill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fall 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Image Ltd.,
Davy DMX,
Moby Grape,
The Trojans,
Franke,
The Busters,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Hoover,
The Angels of Light,
the Human League,
Q65,
Anakelly,
The Monks,
KRS-One,
The Buckinghams,
The Techniques,
Neu!,
John Cale,
Minor Threat,
The Five Americans,
Laurel Aitken,
Sixth Finger,
Theoretical Girls,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Drive Like Jehu,
Camouflage,
Mr. Review,
Mark Hollis,
Sex Pistols,
Sonic Youth,
MC5,
The Victims,
The Remains,
H. Thieme,
The Blackbyrds,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bauhaus,
Monolake,
The Red Krayola,
The Walker Brothers,
Idris Muhammad,
The Real Kids,
Eve St. Jones,
Scan 7,
Spandau Ballet,
Little Man,
Gil Scott Heron,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Fortunes,
Gang Green,
Susan Cadogan,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Schoolly D,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Pylon,
PIL,
Boz Scaggs,
Nas, Nas, Nas, Nas.
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.