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 Paraguay and from Sao Paulo.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Bobby Womack to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Slits. All the underground hits.
All Slick Rick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crash Course in Science record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Unwound,
The Pop Group,
Black Flag,
Alice Coltrane,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Barclay James Harvest,
Yusef Lateef,
Bizarre Inc.,
Slave,
Severed Heads,
Mad Mike,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Jerry's Kids,
This Heat,
Section 25,
Easy Going,
Slick Rick,
The Neon Judgement,
The Wake,
Pylon,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Pole,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
X-Ray Spex,
T. Rex,
Pere Ubu,
The American Breed,
Mark Hollis,
The Gap Band,
Can,
The Angels of Light,
Simply Red,
Rekid,
Tomorrow,
Fela Kuti,
The Dead C,
China Crisis,
Pierre Henry,
Guru Guru,
Eddi Front,
Drive Like Jehu,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Residents,
DJ Sneak,
The Walker Brothers,
Public Enemy,
The Move,
Q and Not U,
Jawbox,
The Invisible,
Excepter,
Audionom,
New Age Steppers,
Magazine,
Stiv Bators,
Los Fastidios,
Bob Dylan,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sister Nancy,
Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers.
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.