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 Samoa and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 Manila and Hong Kong.
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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the snare 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 The Names to the crunk 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 Theoretical Girls. All the underground hits.
All Excepter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy's Rubber Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Godley & Creme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spoonie Gee,
Liliput,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Throbbing Gristle,
Black Bananas,
Loose Ends,
U.S. Maple,
Colin Newman,
Sarah Menescal,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Newcleus,
Laurel Aitken,
Faust,
Suicide,
Crispian St. Peters,
Camouflage,
Ultravox,
Max Romeo,
Ludus,
Sex Pistols,
Pantytec,
The Barracudas,
The Cowsills,
Marcia Griffiths,
the Normal,
The Vogues,
Cybotron,
T. Rex,
K-Klass,
Soft Machine,
A Certain Ratio,
Thee Headcoats,
Mission of Burma,
Harry Pussy,
PIL,
Technova,
Schoolly D,
Al Stewart,
Funkadelic,
New York Dolls,
Public Enemy,
Henry Cow,
The Mojo Men,
Yellowson,
The Offenders,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Carl Craig,
Clear Light,
Nirvana,
Peter & Gordon,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
8 Eyed Spy,
Magma,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sonic Youth,
Wire,
Delta 5,
Angry Samoans,
Pussy Galore,
Skarface,
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.