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 Argentina 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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Oneida to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Lower 48. All the underground hits.
All Jacob Miller tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mandrill,
Hardrive,
Derrick May,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sound Behaviour,
Lucky Dragons,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Amazonics,
The Associates,
Pussy Galore,
Alice Coltrane,
The Saints,
Connie Case,
The Cowsills,
Albert Ayler,
The Angels of Light,
X-102,
The Motions,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Mars,
Harpers Bizarre,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
FM Einheit,
Crash Course in Science,
KRS-One,
Mary Jane Girls,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Moleskins,
Massinfluence,
Smog,
Neu!,
The Standells,
Second Layer,
T. Rex,
Sister Nancy,
Kerri Chandler,
Public Image Ltd.,
Gong,
Ludus,
Mo-Dettes,
New Age Steppers,
Bobby Sherman,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Spoonie Gee,
Marmalade,
Cheater Slicks,
Ken Boothe,
Electric Prunes,
the Normal,
Banda Bassotti,
Loose Ends,
The Monks,
MC5,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
John Foxx,
Minny Pops,
Tom Boy,
Jacob Miller,
John Holt,
Robert Wyatt,
Crooked Eye,
Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic.
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.