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 Cambodia and from Milan.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Camouflage to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Minutemen. All the underground hits.
All Mars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nik Kershaw 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
Joy Division,
Tim Buckley,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
EPMD,
Nas,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Severed Heads,
The Moleskins,
Terrestrial Tones,
Neu!,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Modern Lovers,
FM Einheit,
Deepchord,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Searchers,
Black Flag,
Josef K,
David McCallum,
Easy Going,
The Kinks,
Brothers Johnson,
Schoolly D,
Drive Like Jehu,
Talk Talk,
Agent Orange,
Dennis Brown,
Adolescents,
Au Pairs,
Stockholm Monsters,
Thompson Twins,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
La Düsseldorf,
Supertramp,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Zero Boys,
Flash Fearless,
The Blackbyrds,
Faust,
Don Cherry,
John Holt,
John Coltrane,
MDC,
Avey Tare,
Iggy Pop,
Quando Quango,
Roger Hodgson,
Gang of Four,
the Human League,
Shoche,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Procol Harum,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Blake Baxter,
Technova,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke.
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.