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 Belize and from Stockholm.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Bang On A Can to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Divine Comedy. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every ABBA record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a London Community Gospel Choir record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
Television,
Technova,
Lou Reed,
Unrelated Segments,
The American Breed,
Roxette,
Suburban Knight,
Black Pus,
Pere Ubu,
Yaz,
Yusef Lateef,
The Moleskins,
Arab on Radar,
Visage,
Gong,
Oblivians,
Derrick May,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Pantaleimon,
Masters at Work,
Black Flag,
Adolescents,
The Red Krayola,
The Shadows of Knight,
Jacob Miller,
Inner City,
Infiniti,
Nation of Ulysses,
Blancmange,
Pulsallama,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Man Eating Sloth,
48th St. Collective,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Throbbing Gristle,
Mandrill,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Derrick Morgan,
the Bar-Kays,
Leonard Cohen,
ABC,
June Days,
Symarip,
Silicon Teens,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Little Man,
John Foxx,
Porter Ricks,
World's Most,
Severed Heads,
Barry Ungar,
Dark Day,
Terry Callier,
Tom Boy,
The Star Department,
The Fire Engines,
Erasure,
The Dirtbombs,
Fatback Band,
Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe.
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.