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 Uzbekistan and from Edmonton.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Winnipeg.
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 Donald Fagen 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 Donald Byrd to the rock 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 The Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Dolphy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Niagra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
Lucky Dragons,
Magazine,
the Slits,
Connie Case,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Stetsasonic,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Neil Young,
The New Christs,
MDC,
Black Bananas,
Wally Richardson,
The Blues Magoos,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sun City Girls,
Laurel Aitken,
The Moleskins,
Bauhaus,
Organ,
The Monks,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Animal Collective,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Gichy Dan,
PIL,
H. Thieme,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Scratch Acid,
The Cure,
Jawbox,
Brick,
Robert Görl,
Cheater Slicks,
Eric Copeland,
Ituana,
Bobby Hutcherson,
ABBA,
The J.B.'s,
Wolf Eyes,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Charles Mingus,
Arab on Radar,
Minutemen,
Funky Four + One,
the Germs,
Outsiders,
Masters at Work,
This Heat,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Chris Corsano,
Jeru the Damaja,
Drive Like Jehu,
Desert Stars,
Marc Almond,
Tubeway Army,
Nik Kershaw,
The Residents,
Amon Düül,
Smog,
Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front.
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.