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 Nicaragua and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 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 Flamin' Groovies to the rap 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 Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Warsaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker + Sunn O))) record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sisters of Mercy,
ABC,
Model 500,
Nas,
The Red Krayola,
Depeche Mode,
Roxette,
Letta Mbulu,
Jeff Lynne,
Darondo,
Bobby Sherman,
8 Eyed Spy,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Popol Vuh,
The Moody Blues,
Fear,
The United States of America,
Erasure,
Kaleidoscope,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Television,
Grauzone,
Henry Cow,
Man Parrish,
Con Funk Shun,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Fall,
The Selecter,
Kevin Saunderson,
Suicide,
The Shadows of Knight,
Harmonia,
Guru Guru,
Deadbeat,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Nico,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Jerry's Kids,
Derrick Morgan,
Can,
Harry Pussy,
David Bowie,
Vainqueur,
Accadde A,
Robert Görl,
Procol Harum,
X-Ray Spex,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Boredoms,
These Immortal Souls,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Faust,
Grandmaster Flash,
Soulsonic Force,
Lalann,
Charles Mingus,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies.
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.