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 China and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 808 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 Metal Thangz to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Smoke. All the underground hits.
All Colin Newman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Schoolly D record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Underground Resistance,
The Smiths,
Lyres,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
John Coltrane,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Black Flag,
F. McDonald,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Subhumans,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Babytalk,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Steve Hackett,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Monochrome Set,
Camouflage,
The Modern Lovers,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Byron Stingily,
Chrome,
the Soft Cell,
Tubeway Army,
Alice Coltrane,
Spandau Ballet,
Darondo,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Gastr Del Sol,
Man Eating Sloth,
Deepchord,
Gang Green,
Malaria!,
Electric Prunes,
Tears for Fears,
Crispy Ambulance,
Roxette,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Stereo Dub,
Wolf Eyes,
Severed Heads,
Visage,
Stiv Bators,
The Real Kids,
Los Fastidios,
10cc,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Saints,
The Doors,
Animal Collective,
Arab on Radar,
Amazonics,
Inner City,
Q65,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Jeff Mills,
Bauhaus,
The Move,
Faust,
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.