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 Equatorial Guinea and from Lagos.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Kurtis Blow to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All The Modern Lovers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Bananas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rosa Yemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Christie,
Jerry's Kids,
Subhumans,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Kerrie Biddell,
the Sonics,
The Detroit Cobras,
U.S. Maple,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Agent Orange,
The Monks,
Amazonics,
Hot Snakes,
Lee Hazlewood,
Harry Pussy,
Nils Olav,
Moebius,
Pierre Henry,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Organ,
Letta Mbulu,
Davy DMX,
Liliput,
Barry Ungar,
The Sonics,
Suicide,
Soul II Soul,
Scion,
Pagans,
Radiohead,
The New Christs,
The Associates,
Ten City,
Niagra,
the Fania All-Stars,
Second Layer,
The Fugs,
Pylon,
CMW,
John Coltrane,
Cameo,
Althea and Donna,
David Axelrod,
ABBA,
Boz Scaggs,
Rhythm & Sound,
Slick Rick,
The Music Machine,
The Gap Band,
Sun Ra,
The Shadows of Knight,
Guru Guru,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
T. Rex,
Agitation Free,
Black Moon,
Can,
Michelle Simonal,
Mary Jane Girls,
Nirvana,
Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid.
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.