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 Peru and from Lyon.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Jeru the Damaja to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Rapeman. All the underground hits.
All Theoretical Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiopuhelimet 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Talk Talk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doobie Brothers,
The Remains,
the Swans,
Cecil Taylor,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Iggy Pop,
Marvin Gaye,
Inner City,
Drexciya,
Adolescents,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Gladiators,
Faraquet,
Intrusion,
Ultra Naté,
Bad Manners,
Aloha Tigers,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Maleditus Sound,
Das Ding,
The Young Rascals,
Eve St. Jones,
The Zeros,
Can,
Mad Mike,
Ituana,
The Victims,
Alton Ellis,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Brass Construction,
The Pretty Things,
Q and Not U,
Kayak,
Tres Demented,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Seeds,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Rakim,
Bang On A Can,
Dave Gahan,
Spandau Ballet,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Fluxion,
DJ Style,
Scratch Acid,
Young Marble Giants,
Rosa Yemen,
Amon Düül II,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
A Certain Ratio,
Zero Boys,
The Raincoats,
The Blackbyrds,
The United States of America,
Procol Harum,
Nico,
X-101,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
New York Dolls,
Soft Cell,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Amazonics,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane.
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.