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 Uganda and from Toronto.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Popol Vuh to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Buzzcocks. All the underground hits.
All The Golliwogs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Joe & The Fish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sparks,
X-102,
Lightning Bolt,
48th St. Collective,
Pussy Galore,
The Star Department,
The Invisible,
Rapeman,
Gerry Rafferty,
Leonard Cohen,
H. Thieme,
Amon Düül II,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sonic Youth,
The Wake,
Eve St. Jones,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Tubeway Army,
Swell Maps,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Oneida,
Essential Logic,
Laurel Aitken,
Jeff Lynne,
John Foxx,
Black Sheep,
Derrick Morgan,
Kas Product,
New York Dolls,
Marine Girls,
Graham Central Station,
Lyres,
Arthur Verocai,
the Germs,
Dennis Brown,
Grey Daturas,
The Stooges,
The Move,
Swans,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sexual Harrassment,
Television Personalities,
K-Klass,
Chris Corsano,
Stiv Bators,
The Pop Group,
Albert Ayler,
June of 44,
Soft Machine,
Warsaw,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Birthday Party,
Alice Coltrane,
The Red Krayola,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
John Coltrane,
Pharoah Sanders,
Alison Limerick,
Shoche,
The Detroit Cobras,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Quadrant,
Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson.
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.