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 Antigua and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Manchester.
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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Rites of Spring to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Fad Gadget tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Smooth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Happenings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
Inner City,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Buckinghams,
FM Einheit,
Dark Day,
Amazonics,
Cameo,
Metal Thangz,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Crispian St. Peters,
Drexciya,
Supertramp,
Lower 48,
Intrusion,
Ralphi Rosario,
Man Parrish,
James White and The Blacks,
Mars,
Accadde A,
Von Mondo,
New Order,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Slick Rick,
Alphaville,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Minutemen,
The Doors,
Marcia Griffiths,
Gil Scott Heron,
Donny Hathaway,
X-101,
Flipper,
Heaven 17,
Moby Grape,
The Martian,
The Fuzztones,
Public Image Ltd.,
Vainqueur,
Ornette Coleman,
Soul Sonic Force,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Barbara Tucker,
Hasil Adkins,
Jeru the Damaja,
Amon Düül,
Glambeats Corp.,
Deakin,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Pussy Galore,
Scott Walker,
Maleditus Sound,
Don Cherry,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Byron Stingily,
Royal Trux,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Mummies,
Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul.
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.