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 Honduras and from Jakarta.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Maurizio to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Thee Headcoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magazine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glenn Branca,
Procol Harum,
Sun City Girls,
Bush Tetras,
Rosa Yemen,
Yazoo,
Half Japanese,
Max Romeo,
Livin' Joy,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Pussy Galore,
James White and The Blacks,
Simply Red,
Ronnie Foster,
Agent Orange,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Nico,
Mandrill,
X-102,
The Birthday Party,
Kerrie Biddell,
Make Up,
The Zeros,
The Smoke,
Joensuu 1685,
Crooked Eye,
Neu!,
The New Christs,
Suburban Knight,
Eric Copeland,
Clear Light,
the Bar-Kays,
Ultimate Spinach,
Spandau Ballet,
Albert Ayler,
Tom Boy,
Zapp,
Brothers Johnson,
Dorothy Ashby,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Iggy Pop,
Leonard Cohen,
Bronski Beat,
The Dead C,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
These Immortal Souls,
Banda Bassotti,
Flash Fearless,
Gang Green,
David Axelrod,
Mantronix,
Easy Going,
Das Ding,
Hot Snakes,
The Grass Roots,
Eve St. Jones,
Shoche,
Roy Ayers,
Fad Gadget,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Darondo, Darondo, Darondo, Darondo.
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.