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 Belarus and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Barbara Tucker to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 MDC. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sight & Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Infiniti,
Godley & Creme,
The Divine Comedy,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Barracudas,
the Germs,
The Kinks,
Technova,
The Mojo Men,
Theoretical Girls,
Albert Ayler,
Audionom,
Junior Murvin,
The American Breed,
The Standells,
Y Pants,
Hasil Adkins,
Tres Demented,
Rod Modell,
The Gap Band,
Joy Division,
MDC,
James White and The Blacks,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Wake,
Joe Smooth,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Boogie Down Productions,
Section 25,
Gong,
The Associates,
FM Einheit,
Maurizio,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Arthur Verocai,
Icehouse,
Crooked Eye,
Avey Tare,
Bluetip,
Lou Christie,
Nas,
Vainqueur,
Al Stewart,
The Angels of Light,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Peter and Kerry,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Prince Buster,
Warren Ellis,
Porter Ricks,
Eden Ahbez,
The Saints,
DJ Sneak,
Gregory Isaacs,
48th St. Collective,
Agitation Free,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Terry Callier,
Thee Headcoats,
The Gories,
June of 44,
Tom Boy,
Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow.
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.