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 Brazil and from Taipei.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Soft Machine to the rap 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 Glambeats Corp.. All the underground hits.
All Fort Wilson Riot tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fort Wilson Riot,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Kerri Chandler,
Traffic Nightmare,
Dawn Penn,
Bob Dylan,
Arthur Verocai,
Oneida,
The Human League,
Monks,
Bronski Beat,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
ABC,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Victims,
Wasted Youth,
Bauhaus,
The Fall,
Sonic Youth,
Nils Olav,
Newcleus,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Cramps,
Dual Sessions,
Joe Finger,
H. Thieme,
John Cale,
The Pop Group,
Sam Rivers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Mojo Men,
Eric B and Rakim,
Matthew Bourne,
The Index,
Monolake,
John Lydon,
James White and The Blacks,
Clear Light,
Von Mondo,
David Bowie,
X-102,
Quando Quango,
Peter & Gordon,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Funkadelic,
The Durutti Column,
Barbara Tucker,
Niagra,
The Last Poets,
Eli Mardock,
The Offenders,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Derrick Morgan,
Ituana,
Ultravox,
Connie Case,
Can,
Ken Boothe,
Parry Music,
Joe Smooth,
Ten City,
UT, UT, UT, UT.
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.