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 Peru and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 David Bowie 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 Johnny Clarke to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Freddie Wadling. All the underground hits.
All K-Klass tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Visage 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a World's Most record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cabaret Voltaire,
New York Dolls,
Stereo Dub,
Bootsy Collins,
Cluster,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Essential Logic,
The Flesh Eaters,
Prince Buster,
Tom Boy,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Kool Moe Dee,
DJ Style,
Scion,
Excepter,
Yaz,
John Coltrane,
Panda Bear,
the Association,
Icehouse,
Sällskapet,
The Blues Magoos,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Ornette Coleman,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
John Lydon,
The Techniques,
The Offenders,
Dave Gahan,
EPMD,
K-Klass,
Joyce Sims,
Tropical Tobacco,
Neu!,
The Last Poets,
Robert Görl,
Reagan Youth,
Todd Terry,
The Vogues,
Electric Prunes,
Surgeon,
Monks,
Newcleus,
Clear Light,
Frankie Knuckles,
Davy DMX,
Adolescents,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bush Tetras,
The Moody Blues,
Letta Mbulu,
ABBA,
DJ Sneak,
Crooked Eye,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Motorama,
Colin Newman,
Todd Rundgren,
Eli Mardock,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.