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 San Marino and from Salvador.
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 Edmonton and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Donny Hathaway to the funk 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 Boogie Down Productions. All the underground hits.
All Jerry's Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Searchers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stetsasonic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Au Pairs,
Sandy B,
Angry Samoans,
David McCallum,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Minny Pops,
Alison Limerick,
The Barracudas,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Deakin,
U.S. Maple,
Ossler,
The Kinks,
Minutemen,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Smiths,
Audionom,
Jeff Lynne,
Janne Schatter,
Ralphi Rosario,
Dark Day,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Marmalade,
The Gories,
Pulsallama,
John Coltrane,
The Red Krayola,
Panda Bear,
Johnny Osbourne,
Godley & Creme,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Severed Heads,
The Dead C,
Can,
CMW,
Bobby Sherman,
Donny Hathaway,
Crooked Eye,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
X-102,
Drive Like Jehu,
Lyres,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Scientists,
Desert Stars,
Oblivians,
Gichy Dan,
Moby Grape,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Warsaw,
Mad Mike,
Don Cherry,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Blackbyrds,
The Knickerbockers,
The Moody Blues,
Young Marble Giants,
Stetsasonic,
Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken.
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.