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 Bulgaria 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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Kerrie Biddell to the punk 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All Funky Four + One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lindisfarne 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tom Boy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
Bootsy Collins,
Slave,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Gerry Rafferty,
Stetsasonic,
The Gun Club,
The Index,
June Days,
Chrome,
Gang of Four,
Davy DMX,
Michelle Simonal,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Bill Near,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Rod Modell,
Ornette Coleman,
Nils Olav,
Tears for Fears,
Erasure,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Girls At Our Best!,
Susan Cadogan,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Jandek,
Amon Düül II,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
H. Thieme,
Jeff Mills,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Alton Ellis,
Joyce Sims,
James White and The Blacks,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Flesh Eaters,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Aloha Tigers,
Reuben Wilson,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Negative Approach,
China Crisis,
Leonard Cohen,
Con Funk Shun,
Derrick May,
Outsiders,
Marcia Griffiths,
Magma,
The Real Kids,
Funkadelic,
The Blues Magoos,
Freddie Wadling,
Icehouse,
Agent Orange,
Ponytail,
The Mummies,
The Red Krayola,
Skarface,
The Busters, The Busters, The Busters, The Busters.
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.