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 Macedonia and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 Bremen and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the theremin 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 Unrelated Segments to the rap 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Big Daddy Kane,
Tim Buckley,
Soul Sonic Force,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Soulsonic Force,
Skarface,
Deadbeat,
Harmonia,
Shuggie Otis,
The Doors,
Derrick Morgan,
Scan 7,
Lalo Schifrin,
Hot Snakes,
Robert Görl,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Joensuu 1685,
Cheater Slicks,
Skaos,
Faraquet,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
PIL,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Searchers,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lungfish,
Newcleus,
The Seeds,
Vladislav Delay,
Suburban Knight,
Rapeman,
Sun City Girls,
Lou Reed,
Schoolly D,
Curtis Mayfield,
Inner City,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Zero Boys,
Model 500,
48th St. Collective,
James Chance & The Contortions,
the Bar-Kays,
Idris Muhammad,
Smog,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Babytalk,
Kool Moe Dee,
Monks,
Skriet,
The Victims,
Scrapy,
Sister Nancy,
The Beau Brummels,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Human League,
Sällskapet,
The Trojans,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Kerri Chandler,
Lindisfarne,
The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood.
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.