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 Guinea-Bissau and from Seoul.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Durutti Column to the rock 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Saints record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a U.S. Maple record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fluxion,
Pantaleimon,
Yaz,
Freddie Wadling,
Grey Daturas,
X-Ray Spex,
Mr. Review,
The American Breed,
Dead Boys,
Oneida,
Suburban Knight,
Lindisfarne,
Silicon Teens,
Rufus Thomas,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Animal Collective,
Television,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ralphi Rosario,
Wasted Youth,
The Searchers,
Man Eating Sloth,
Index,
Traffic Nightmare,
Alphaville,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Easy Going,
Leonard Cohen,
Robert Wyatt,
The Smiths,
Peter and Kerry,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Stiv Bators,
The Durutti Column,
The Kinks,
Nick Fraelich,
The Blues Magoos,
Average White Band,
Siglo XX,
JFA,
John Lydon,
Joey Negro,
Moebius,
Tim Buckley,
FM Einheit,
This Heat,
The Mojo Men,
Jeru the Damaja,
Joe Smooth,
the Slits,
Connie Case,
Max Romeo,
Bush Tetras,
Dave Gahan,
The Evens,
Arab on Radar,
The Toasters,
June of 44,
Sarah Menescal,
The New Christs,
Reagan Youth,
The Count Five,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family.
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.