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 San Marino and from Spokane.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 spring reverb 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 Swans to the crunk 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 Selector Dub Narcotic. All the underground hits.
All JFA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eddi Front record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marmalade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Tears for Fears,
Bill Near,
Mary Jane Girls,
Mr. Review,
Ohio Players,
The Dave Clark Five,
Vladislav Delay,
Metal Thangz,
Gang Green,
the Normal,
Agent Orange,
Livin' Joy,
Cluster,
Ten City,
Minnie Riperton,
New Age Steppers,
Crash Course in Science,
The Searchers,
New York Dolls,
Howard Jones,
Altered Images,
Glambeats Corp.,
Skaos,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Shuggie Otis,
Don Cherry,
Oneida,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bronski Beat,
The Moody Blues,
Marc Almond,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Angels of Light,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sight & Sound,
Barry Ungar,
Quadrant,
Joy Division,
Skarface,
Curtis Mayfield,
David McCallum,
Wire,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Moby Grape,
Black Moon,
Swell Maps,
These Immortal Souls,
Sunsets and Hearts,
EPMD,
Robert Wyatt,
Max Romeo,
Au Pairs,
Massinfluence,
ABC,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Remains,
The Monks,
Deakin,
Monolake,
Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey.
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.