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 Greece and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 clarinet 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 Ash Ra Tempel to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Ken Boothe. All the underground hits.
All Graham Central Station tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Leaves 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New Age Steppers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Visage,
Deadbeat,
Yellowson,
Marcia Griffiths,
Fugazi,
Ice-T,
Soulsonic Force,
Sexual Harrassment,
Jeff Mills,
June of 44,
The Vogues,
Roxy Music,
Gregory Isaacs,
Television,
Davy DMX,
the Swans,
The Motions,
The Divine Comedy,
R.M.O.,
The Saints,
Slick Rick,
Moebius,
DJ Style,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Stooges,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Joey Negro,
Rosa Yemen,
Stockholm Monsters,
Excepter,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Slave,
Lakeside,
Iggy Pop,
Pagans,
Accadde A,
A Certain Ratio,
The United States of America,
Black Sheep,
Cymande,
The Dirtbombs,
Sandy B,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Stetsasonic,
Dennis Brown,
L. Decosne,
Scrapy,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Modern Lovers,
Symarip,
The Monochrome Set,
the Soft Cell,
Arab on Radar,
Buzzcocks,
Joensuu 1685,
Faust,
Lou Christie,
Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going.
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.