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 Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 rhodes 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 The Vogues to the grime 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 Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic. All the underground hits.
All ABBA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fluxion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
June Days,
DJ Style,
Babytalk,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Faraquet,
Howard Jones,
The Stooges,
Bush Tetras,
Main Source,
Flash Fearless,
the Swans,
John Foxx,
Reuben Wilson,
The Dirtbombs,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ossler,
Flipper,
Fela Kuti,
Duran Duran,
Glambeats Corp.,
Leonard Cohen,
Model 500,
Crime,
Index,
Sound Behaviour,
Subhumans,
T.S.O.L.,
Eurythmics,
The Misunderstood,
Delon & Dalcan,
Ludus,
Surgeon,
Andrew Hill,
Pulsallama,
Lower 48,
Deakin,
Joe Smooth,
Joe Finger,
the Germs,
the Fania All-Stars,
Echospace,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Invisible,
Todd Terry,
Albert Ayler,
The Mojo Men,
Swell Maps,
Bang On A Can,
Todd Rundgren,
James White and The Blacks,
Whodini,
Harry Pussy,
The Sound,
The Zeros,
The Saints,
Mantronix,
Suburban Knight,
Black Pus,
X-101,
Dennis Brown,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids.
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.