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 Venezuela and from London.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Jeff Mills to the electroclash 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 Pussy Galore. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blackbyrds 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ten City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ornette Coleman,
Brand Nubian,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Tres Demented,
Dave Gahan,
Pussy Galore,
Technova,
Stiv Bators,
Cheater Slicks,
Gang Gang Dance,
Essential Logic,
Pole,
Soft Cell,
Jacques Brel,
Susan Cadogan,
The Dirtbombs,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Public Image Ltd.,
Boredoms,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Lower 48,
David McCallum,
Niagra,
Boz Scaggs,
Todd Terry,
Maleditus Sound,
The Gladiators,
The Mojo Men,
The Black Dice,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Erasure,
Deepchord,
Matthew Halsall,
Chrome,
Toni Rubio,
Johnny Clarke,
The Doobie Brothers,
Sparks,
Unwound,
Underground Resistance,
The Techniques,
Rites of Spring,
The Angels of Light,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Selecter,
Tom Boy,
Franke,
Byron Stingily,
Gong,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Nik Kershaw,
Buzzcocks,
Von Mondo,
Eden Ahbez,
Monks,
Scion,
the Fania All-Stars,
Easy Going,
Basic Channel,
Mr. Review,
Siglo XX, Siglo XX, Siglo XX, Siglo XX.
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.