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 Colombia and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 harpsichord 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 The Remains to the jazz 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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All Suicide tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Intrusion 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 spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wasted Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Pere Ubu,
Von Mondo,
Dorothy Ashby,
Funkadelic,
Tomorrow,
The Modern Lovers,
Zapp,
Rosa Yemen,
Jimmy McGriff,
kango's stein massive,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Gil Scott Heron,
Ornette Coleman,
Visage,
Section 25,
Alison Limerick,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Jacques Brel,
Bang On A Can,
Arab on Radar,
Sällskapet,
Chrome,
Kas Product,
10cc,
Kool Moe Dee,
Flamin' Groovies,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Mandrill,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Eric Copeland,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Depeche Mode,
Nico,
Schoolly D,
Bill Near,
The Detroit Cobras,
Banda Bassotti,
The Alarm Clocks,
E-Dancer,
Barbara Tucker,
Robert Wyatt,
Soul II Soul,
Silicon Teens,
One Last Wish,
Jerry's Kids,
The Residents,
D'Angelo,
Boredoms,
New Order,
Chris & Cosey,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lungfish,
Tres Demented,
KRS-One,
Ken Boothe,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
48th St. Collective,
the Sonics,
Sight & Sound,
Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis.
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.