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 Tanzania and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Eddi Front to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud. All the underground hits.
All Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Urselle record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultra Naté,
James Chance & The Contortions,
8 Eyed Spy,
Nation of Ulysses,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Flesh Eaters,
Mission of Burma,
Lightning Bolt,
Grauzone,
The Monks,
Bobby Sherman,
Mo-Dettes,
Essential Logic,
David McCallum,
Japan,
Flash Fearless,
In Retrospect,
the Germs,
Sparks,
Crispian St. Peters,
Stetsasonic,
The Barracudas,
Sixth Finger,
Zapp,
Aaron Thompson,
Ultimate Spinach,
Wasted Youth,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
the Human League,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Magma,
Suicide,
Pantytec,
The Cowsills,
The Cramps,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Gil Scott Heron,
Eli Mardock,
Kool Moe Dee,
Scott Walker,
Public Image Ltd.,
Carl Craig,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lindisfarne,
Fela Kuti,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Gories,
Royal Trux,
Motorama,
The Residents,
CMW,
Accadde A,
The New Christs,
Delon & Dalcan,
the Slits,
Neu!,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Misunderstood,
Terrestrial Tones,
the Soft Cell,
Colin Newman,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.