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 Korea North and from Toronto.
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 Lagos and Manchester.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Grey Daturas to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Lungfish. All the underground hits.
All Bush Tetras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scion 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Womack record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
Sex Pistols,
Smog,
Juan Atkins,
Eric Copeland,
Pagans,
Schoolly D,
Barry Ungar,
Don Cherry,
Marshall Jefferson,
John Coltrane,
Black Pus,
Donald Byrd,
R.M.O.,
Mad Mike,
Ohio Players,
One Last Wish,
The Cramps,
Dave Gahan,
FM Einheit,
The Young Rascals,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Main Source,
D'Angelo,
David Axelrod,
Peter and Kerry,
Jacques Brel,
Tomorrow,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Cymande,
Alphaville,
Marvin Gaye,
The Stooges,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
OOIOO,
The Gories,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Rosa Yemen,
Kurtis Blow,
Jandek,
The Leaves,
The Fuzztones,
Yazoo,
Bobby Byrd,
Camberwell Now,
Hoover,
Panda Bear,
Ten City,
Kerrie Biddell,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Second Layer,
Niagra,
The Busters,
Surgeon,
Todd Terry,
Cameo,
Slave,
Easy Going,
John Lydon,
Parry Music,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
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.