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 Malawi and from New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Soulsonic Force to the funk 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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes. All the underground hits.
All Heavy D & The Boyz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sly & The Family Stone record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Holt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moody Blues,
Skriet,
The Residents,
Sam Rivers,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Chris Corsano,
Parry Music,
Nik Kershaw,
Minor Threat,
Black Pus,
Babytalk,
the Association,
H. Thieme,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Khruangbin,
Oneida,
Stereo Dub,
The Slits,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Real Kids,
John Lydon,
Mr. Review,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Reuben Wilson,
Johnny Clarke,
the Human League,
the Soft Cell,
Kenny Larkin,
Eve St. Jones,
The Smiths,
PIL,
A Certain Ratio,
The Black Dice,
Brick,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Mantronix,
La Düsseldorf,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Swell Maps,
Gang Starr,
Arcadia,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Eden Ahbez,
Barry Ungar,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Bizarre Inc.,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Remains,
Marine Girls,
Ornette Coleman,
LL Cool J,
The Gladiators,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Barbara Tucker,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Standells,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.