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 Bulgaria and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 snare 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 Pagans to the grunge 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson. All the underground hits.
All 48th St. Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Curtis Mayfield 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cymande record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glenn Branca,
The Associates,
Joe Smooth,
Pussy Galore,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Charles Mingus,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Slits,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Gerry Rafferty,
Robert Görl,
X-102,
Eden Ahbez,
The Buckinghams,
The Blues Magoos,
Sällskapet,
Barclay James Harvest,
Deadbeat,
Suicide,
Absolute Body Control,
Brothers Johnson,
Sandy B,
Negative Approach,
Theoretical Girls,
E-Dancer,
The Cramps,
Aaron Thompson,
kango's stein massive,
Scientists,
Camouflage,
Lucky Dragons,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Von Mondo,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Kenny Larkin,
Eve St. Jones,
Skriet,
Vainqueur,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Kurtis Blow,
Ronnie Foster,
Siglo XX,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Marc Almond,
Jeru the Damaja,
Rufus Thomas,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Fat Boys,
Crash Course in Science,
The New Christs,
Dorothy Ashby,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sun City Girls,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Jeff Mills,
Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux.
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.