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 Albania 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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the oboe 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 Peter and Kerry to the grunge 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Barry Ungar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Larry & the Blue Notes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Make Up,
Unwound,
Gabor Szabo,
Blake Baxter,
Ultravox,
Juan Atkins,
Delta 5,
Gang Starr,
Blossom Toes,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ludus,
Archie Shepp,
Susan Cadogan,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Television,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bobby Sherman,
Wolf Eyes,
Patti Smith,
Girls At Our Best!,
U.S. Maple,
Fatback Band,
Lou Reed,
Ken Boothe,
Bronski Beat,
Reuben Wilson,
Urselle,
Basic Channel,
The Raincoats,
Crash Course in Science,
Cheater Slicks,
Matthew Bourne,
UT,
Rakim,
The Skatalites,
Roy Ayers,
Soft Machine,
Camberwell Now,
Faraquet,
Andrew Hill,
Masters at Work,
Scratch Acid,
Steve Hackett,
Procol Harum,
Quantec,
Scott Walker,
Yaz,
Fear,
JFA,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Neon Judgement,
Adolescents,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Motions,
Barry Ungar,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sun City Girls,
Magma,
The Cramps,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip.
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.