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 Kiribati and from Cairo.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Yazoo to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Buzzcocks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Dolphy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q and Not U,
KRS-One,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bob Dylan,
JFA,
Glambeats Corp.,
New York Dolls,
Dennis Brown,
Suburban Knight,
The Music Machine,
Lee Hazlewood,
the Normal,
DJ Sneak,
Peter & Gordon,
Oblivians,
Mr. Review,
Ultra Naté,
Toni Rubio,
Junior Murvin,
Stiv Bators,
Scrapy,
Zero Boys,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Fire Engines,
Hoover,
Alison Limerick,
Alice Coltrane,
Avey Tare,
Sparks,
These Immortal Souls,
Agent Orange,
Can,
Pere Ubu,
the Human League,
Pulsallama,
Ronan,
Flash Fearless,
Kas Product,
DNA,
Matthew Halsall,
Ralphi Rosario,
R.M.O.,
Gang of Four,
Infiniti,
Eve St. Jones,
Maurizio,
The Fortunes,
Neu!,
Black Sheep,
Babytalk,
The Count Five,
Wolf Eyes,
The Slits,
Janne Schatter,
Harry Pussy,
Yazoo,
The Dirtbombs,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Severed Heads,
T.S.O.L.,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ten City,
Al Stewart,
ABBA, ABBA, ABBA, ABBA.
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.