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 Uruguay and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lagos.
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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 U.S. Maple to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Dead Boys. All the underground hits.
All The Five Americans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sad Lovers and Giants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sarah Menescal record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
The Count Five,
Kerrie Biddell,
Camouflage,
Mr. Review,
Crispian St. Peters,
These Immortal Souls,
Bush Tetras,
The Remains,
Gil Scott Heron,
Archie Shepp,
The Pretty Things,
The Monochrome Set,
Maleditus Sound,
Bootsy Collins,
Yellowson,
Johnny Clarke,
the Swans,
Max Romeo,
Stereo Dub,
Yaz,
The United States of America,
Goldenarms,
Eli Mardock,
Prince Buster,
The Slits,
Y Pants,
ABBA,
Marine Girls,
Donald Byrd,
Essential Logic,
Funky Four + One,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Minor Threat,
Thee Headcoats,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sun City Girls,
Deadbeat,
Peter and Kerry,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The New Christs,
The Music Machine,
Boredoms,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Mandrill,
Ossler,
Gichy Dan,
Nils Olav,
Pole,
Monolake,
Tim Buckley,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Last Poets,
Ponytail,
Pagans,
Little Man,
New Order,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Velvet Underground,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Nirvana,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.