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 Afghanistan and from Lagos.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Robert Palmer 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the jazz 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 John Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All The Count Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Modern Lovers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marcia Griffiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marine Girls,
Throbbing Gristle,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Danielle Patucci,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Mantronix,
Organ,
Colin Newman,
China Crisis,
Marmalade,
Lou Reed,
Minor Threat,
Lalann,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Reagan Youth,
Sight & Sound,
Cymande,
The Fugs,
Suicide,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Martian,
Stiv Bators,
T.S.O.L.,
The Flesh Eaters,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Basic Channel,
Yazoo,
The Detroit Cobras,
Don Cherry,
Janne Schatter,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Jimmy McGriff,
Letta Mbulu,
Brand Nubian,
Ossler,
Chrome,
Icehouse,
The Fuzztones,
DJ Style,
The Blues Magoos,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Howard Jones,
K-Klass,
The Cure,
Electric Prunes,
Ice-T,
Lightning Bolt,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Maleditus Sound,
Jawbox,
Sixth Finger,
JFA,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Gladiators,
Index,
Thompson Twins,
Dennis Brown,
MC5,
Ohio Players,
Arcadia,
Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson.
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.