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 Bangladesh and from Taipei.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Dave Gahan to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Skarface. All the underground hits.
All Monolake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aloha Tigers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
Ken Boothe,
Minnie Riperton,
Jeff Lynne,
The Litter,
MDC,
Marvin Gaye,
Black Flag,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Jacques Brel,
Tommy Roe,
Chris & Cosey,
Crash Course in Science,
Swans,
Lyres,
The Monks,
Eric Copeland,
10cc,
R.M.O.,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Stooges,
Eve St. Jones,
The Cowsills,
The Gladiators,
Arab on Radar,
FM Einheit,
Dark Day,
Eurythmics,
Brand Nubian,
Grey Daturas,
Moebius,
Gang Starr,
Peter & Gordon,
The Techniques,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Bobby Sherman,
Patti Smith,
Make Up,
Roger Hodgson,
Graham Central Station,
The Trojans,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Jandek,
Fluxion,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Funkadelic,
F. McDonald,
Yaz,
The J.B.'s,
Icehouse,
Yazoo,
The Leaves,
Kurtis Blow,
Angry Samoans,
The Fall,
DJ Style,
Absolute Body Control,
The Cure, The Cure, The Cure, The Cure.
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.