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 Guinea-Bissau and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 oboe 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 Wings to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Pussy Galore. All the underground hits.
All Dave Gahan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brand Nubian 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Banda Bassotti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba 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 Leaves,
Eurythmics,
Bill Wells,
The American Breed,
Alice Coltrane,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Animal Collective,
Hashim,
H. Thieme,
Joe Smooth,
Tropical Tobacco,
Massinfluence,
Scion,
Jawbox,
Motorama,
Anakelly,
Bobby Sherman,
Althea and Donna,
The Golliwogs,
Man Eating Sloth,
A Certain Ratio,
Tom Boy,
Saccharine Trust,
Suicide,
Juan Atkins,
Main Source,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Oblivians,
Soul II Soul,
Kenny Larkin,
The Index,
Schoolly D,
Moby Grape,
Black Bananas,
The Toasters,
Marc Almond,
Joey Negro,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Fall,
U.S. Maple,
Little Man,
Loose Ends,
Don Cherry,
Minny Pops,
Subhumans,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Das Ding,
Stockholm Monsters,
Leonard Cohen,
Crash Course in Science,
Pet Shop Boys,
Procol Harum,
The Litter,
Gang Gang Dance,
kango's stein massive,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.