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 Paraguay and from Hong Kong.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Derrick Morgan to the techno 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 Scott Walker. All the underground hits.
All John Holt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythm & Sound 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Niagra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warsaw,
The Grass Roots,
The Standells,
Moby Grape,
Gang of Four,
PIL,
Sexual Harrassment,
the Sonics,
The Cure,
Blossom Toes,
New Order,
Mary Jane Girls,
Monks,
Ronan,
Marmalade,
The Names,
Maleditus Sound,
Girls At Our Best!,
Erasure,
Chris & Cosey,
Nick Fraelich,
Malaria!,
The Red Krayola,
Siglo XX,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Fatback Band,
Minor Threat,
Mantronix,
Bizarre Inc.,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Dead Boys,
Silicon Teens,
Rufus Thomas,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Leonard Cohen,
Shoche,
Duran Duran,
Gang Starr,
The Index,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Average White Band,
the Soft Cell,
DJ Style,
The Wake,
Donald Byrd,
Graham Central Station,
Boz Scaggs,
Accadde A,
Minnie Riperton,
Smog,
Al Stewart,
The Slits,
Reuben Wilson,
Judy Mowatt,
X-101,
B.T. Express,
Talk Talk,
The Move,
Simply Red,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Pere Ubu,
Cymande, Cymande, Cymande, Cymande.
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.