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 Switzerland and from Paris.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Rapeman to the electroclash 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 The Offenders. All the underground hits.
All Oneida tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barclay James Harvest record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Niagra,
The Tremeloes,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Durutti Column,
Organ,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Arcadia,
Prince Buster,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Fugs,
Sällskapet,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Joey Negro,
Pierre Henry,
The Raincoats,
Flamin' Groovies,
Saccharine Trust,
Grey Daturas,
Nico,
Qualms,
The Last Poets,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
June Days,
Audionom,
Khruangbin,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Anthony Braxton,
Frankie Knuckles,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Suburban Knight,
The New Christs,
Blake Baxter,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Moleskins,
Henry Cow,
Amon Düül II,
Ice-T,
Young Marble Giants,
Aural Exciters,
Avey Tare,
Boredoms,
Subhumans,
Barclay James Harvest,
MDC,
the Germs,
Stetsasonic,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Dead C,
Lalann,
Depeche Mode,
Guru Guru,
The Index,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Joensuu 1685,
Erasure,
Traffic Nightmare,
Gabor Szabo,
the Normal,
The Busters,
Graham Central Station,
Anakelly,
The Beau Brummels,
Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion.
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.