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 Pakistan and from Philadelphia.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Marine Girls to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Toasters. All the underground hits.
All Average White Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
One Last Wish,
Danielle Patucci,
Harry Pussy,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Litter,
Juan Atkins,
Fat Boys,
Dark Day,
Robert Görl,
Parry Music,
Chrome,
Bronski Beat,
David Axelrod,
Skaos,
Derrick Morgan,
Arab on Radar,
The Victims,
Malaria!,
The Monochrome Set,
X-102,
Moss Icon,
Funkadelic,
the Swans,
Todd Rundgren,
Spandau Ballet,
Nick Fraelich,
Gabor Szabo,
Pet Shop Boys,
Interpol,
The Moody Blues,
D'Angelo,
Nirvana,
Royal Trux,
The Count Five,
FM Einheit,
Ultravox,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bauhaus,
Junior Murvin,
Pharoah Sanders,
Marine Girls,
The Dave Clark Five,
Drexciya,
Bobby Byrd,
Drive Like Jehu,
Easy Going,
The Selecter,
Laurel Aitken,
Carl Craig,
Das Ding,
Black Bananas,
Henry Cow,
Idris Muhammad,
Gang of Four,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Mojo Men,
Joyce Sims,
Stereo Dub,
Television Personalities,
Fad Gadget,
Lou Reed,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu.
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.