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 Mauritania and from Bologna.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Bologna.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Funky Four + One to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Frankie Knuckles. All the underground hits.
All Agent Orange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hoover 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a H. Thieme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
John Coltrane,
Deadbeat,
The Golliwogs,
The Monochrome Set,
Inner City,
Skarface,
Rotary Connection,
The Cramps,
Schoolly D,
Reuben Wilson,
Roger Hodgson,
Girls At Our Best!,
Lucky Dragons,
Ralphi Rosario,
Faraquet,
Rapeman,
The United States of America,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sonic Youth,
The Names,
The Vogues,
Nik Kershaw,
Bob Dylan,
Panda Bear,
Country Teasers,
China Crisis,
The Music Machine,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Dead Boys,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bobby Sherman,
New Order,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Trojans,
Eric Copeland,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sandy B,
Bauhaus,
Reagan Youth,
Cheater Slicks,
Lou Christie,
The Birthday Party,
David Bowie,
Sugar Minott,
The Zeros,
Howard Jones,
Moby Grape,
Sister Nancy,
Aloha Tigers,
Ken Boothe,
Minor Threat,
Electric Prunes,
Letta Mbulu,
Ossler,
Cymande,
Harpers Bizarre,
Erykah Badu,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.