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 Tuvalu and from Lagos.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 X-101 to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Glenn Branca. All the underground hits.
All The Zeros tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Remains 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sam Rivers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fort Wilson Riot,
Little Man,
Pagans,
Ohio Players,
The Kinks,
Marmalade,
Avey Tare,
Ludus,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Simply Red,
Sly & The Family Stone,
EPMD,
Rhythm & Sound,
Lucky Dragons,
Joey Negro,
Kayak,
Lyres,
L. Decosne,
Nils Olav,
The Pretty Things,
Y Pants,
ABC,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
James Chance & The Contortions,
World's Most,
Fad Gadget,
Kerrie Biddell,
the Soft Cell,
Cecil Taylor,
Roxette,
Sugar Minott,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Cure,
Man Eating Sloth,
Dawn Penn,
UT,
Bizarre Inc.,
Dual Sessions,
Marine Girls,
Cheater Slicks,
Harry Pussy,
Whodini,
New Order,
Pere Ubu,
Quantec,
Hot Snakes,
Easy Going,
Sam Rivers,
The Fire Engines,
Vainqueur,
Black Pus,
Hasil Adkins,
Das Ding,
Q and Not U,
The Blackbyrds,
Electric Prunes,
Adolescents,
Mars,
Henry Cow,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Todd Rundgren,
Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed.
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.