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 South Africa and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 Copenhagen and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 spring reverb 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 Scion to the rap 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 The Golliwogs. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crash Course in Science record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rotary Connection record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultravox,
Erykah Badu,
Maurizio,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Cure,
L. Decosne,
Arthur Verocai,
The Dirtbombs,
Skaos,
Bad Manners,
Terry Callier,
Piero Umiliani,
The Five Americans,
Essential Logic,
Eric B and Rakim,
Black Flag,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Angels of Light,
Rotary Connection,
John Cale,
Byron Stingily,
Carl Craig,
Excepter,
Hot Snakes,
Joey Negro,
Bobby Womack,
Pierre Henry,
Index,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
ABC,
The Remains,
The Misunderstood,
Pantytec,
Throbbing Gristle,
Neu!,
Traffic Nightmare,
Pussy Galore,
Juan Atkins,
the Soft Cell,
Mad Mike,
the Germs,
The Motions,
Susan Cadogan,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sixth Finger,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Unrelated Segments,
Slick Rick,
Jacques Brel,
Mark Hollis,
Royal Trux,
The Beau Brummels,
The Durutti Column,
Arcadia,
Bush Tetras,
Gichy Dan,
The Star Department,
Supertramp,
T. Rex,
The Grass Roots,
Can,
Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté.
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.