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 Japan and from Paris.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the oboe 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 Soulsonic Force to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Motorama. All the underground hits.
All Lafayette Afro Rock Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arcadia record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shoche,
Drive Like Jehu,
Moby Grape,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
K-Klass,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Terry Callier,
The Vogues,
Magma,
Ronan,
Niagra,
Sonic Youth,
The Real Kids,
Barry Ungar,
Loose Ends,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lou Christie,
Max Romeo,
Erykah Badu,
Organ,
Crash Course in Science,
Arcadia,
Lungfish,
Cluster,
AZ,
Soft Cell,
R.M.O.,
Danielle Patucci,
Althea and Donna,
Gang Starr,
David Axelrod,
New Order,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Victims,
Moebius,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Junior Murvin,
F. McDonald,
The Fugs,
Sexual Harrassment,
48th St. Collective,
Amon Düül,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Slits,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Fuzztones,
Fat Boys,
The Walker Brothers,
Eyeless In Gaza,
A Certain Ratio,
Black Sheep,
Maurizio,
Suburban Knight,
Young Marble Giants,
Marine Girls,
Guru Guru,
The Blackbyrds,
Prince Buster,
Eurythmics,
Gichy Dan,
CMW,
Camberwell Now,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.