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 Turkey and from Houston.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Maleditus Sound to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 8 Eyed Spy. All the underground hits.
All Television tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantytec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
Youth Brigade,
Circle Jerks,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Qualms,
Todd Rundgren,
T.S.O.L.,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Brothers Johnson,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bang On A Can,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Eli Mardock,
Danielle Patucci,
Fluxion,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Talk Talk,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Metal Thangz,
The Toasters,
DJ Sneak,
Kas Product,
The Seeds,
Newcleus,
Kayak,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Panda Bear,
The Golliwogs,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Soft Cell,
One Last Wish,
Spandau Ballet,
La Düsseldorf,
The Mojo Men,
Nirvana,
Jacob Miller,
The Selecter,
Niagra,
K-Klass,
Ituana,
John Foxx,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Von Mondo,
Jesper Dahlback,
Theoretical Girls,
Radio Birdman,
The Sonics,
These Immortal Souls,
Symarip,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bob Dylan,
The Techniques,
Mission of Burma,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lower 48,
New Age Steppers,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Delta 5,
Stiv Bators,
Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps.
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.