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 Argentina and from Spokane.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet 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 The Fuzztones to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Zero Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wings,
The Last Poets,
Royal Trux,
K-Klass,
Deadbeat,
The Angels of Light,
Neu!,
Zero Boys,
Icehouse,
Marc Almond,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Soft Cell,
John Cale,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Remains,
Tomorrow,
Cymande,
Bob Dylan,
John Lydon,
The Golliwogs,
Altered Images,
Josef K,
Television,
CMW,
Joy Division,
Banda Bassotti,
The Red Krayola,
Judy Mowatt,
Throbbing Gristle,
Au Pairs,
Simply Red,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Skatalites,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ornette Coleman,
The Standells,
James White and The Blacks,
Rites of Spring,
ABC,
Drive Like Jehu,
Pulsallama,
Franke,
Kevin Saunderson,
Quando Quango,
Gang Starr,
Harry Pussy,
Organ,
New York Dolls,
The Doors,
Ludus,
Camberwell Now,
ABBA,
The Litter,
48th St. Collective,
Tom Boy,
Barrington Levy,
Patti Smith,
Black Bananas,
Fela Kuti,
Second Layer,
Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip.
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.