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 Korea South and from Copenhagen.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 June Days to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Clear Light. All the underground hits.
All Fatback Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glenn Branca record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispian St. Peters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Byron Stingily,
New Order,
the Human League,
Half Japanese,
Terrestrial Tones,
DJ Style,
Monolake,
The Cowsills,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Evens,
Stiv Bators,
Parry Music,
Crooked Eye,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Nils Olav,
Albert Ayler,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Clear Light,
The Motions,
Nick Fraelich,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Fear,
LL Cool J,
Sound Behaviour,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Porter Ricks,
The Real Kids,
Aswad,
Marmalade,
Schoolly D,
The Toasters,
Oneida,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Skarface,
Tres Demented,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Gories,
Bluetip,
Cal Tjader,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Sonics,
Bob Dylan,
Lou Christie,
Delon & Dalcan,
Joey Negro,
David McCallum,
Deakin,
Warsaw,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Metal Thangz,
Stockholm Monsters,
Silicon Teens,
Excepter,
Amon Düül,
Barrington Levy,
Brick,
Crime,
Mo-Dettes,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Index,
The Pretty Things,
Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside.
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.