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 Samoa and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 Tokyo and Glasgow.
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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Kurtis Blow to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Mojo Men. All the underground hits.
All The Residents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Alarm Clocks 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?
Man Eating Sloth,
Spandau Ballet,
The Searchers,
Ludus,
Albert Ayler,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Tubeway Army,
Marcia Griffiths,
Fugazi,
Soul Sonic Force,
Jacques Brel,
ABBA,
Black Pus,
Swans,
Big Daddy Kane,
Mission of Burma,
Ultra Naté,
The Cure,
Magazine,
Siglo XX,
Crime,
Stereo Dub,
Clear Light,
Newcleus,
Skaos,
the Soft Cell,
The Grass Roots,
10cc,
Procol Harum,
Hoover,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Slackers,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Red Krayola,
Kevin Saunderson,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Alison Limerick,
DJ Sneak,
the Germs,
Joe Finger,
Tears for Fears,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Black Sheep,
Curtis Mayfield,
Dorothy Ashby,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Bob Dylan,
Bill Wells,
Minny Pops,
Alton Ellis,
Pylon,
Joey Negro,
Harry Pussy,
Brothers Johnson,
The Beau Brummels,
Unrelated Segments,
Guru Guru,
Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz.
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.