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 Portugal and from Glasgow.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the snare 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 Harry Pussy to the techno 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 Wasted Youth. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monochrome Set record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Urselle,
Zero Boys,
New Age Steppers,
Steve Hackett,
Chris & Cosey,
Joyce Sims,
Kerri Chandler,
Electric Prunes,
the Swans,
Spandau Ballet,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Sound,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Tremeloes,
Dark Day,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Grauzone,
Swans,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Little Man,
Connie Case,
Roxette,
AZ,
the Association,
Skriet,
Scratch Acid,
Reuben Wilson,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Offenders,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Cal Tjader,
Stiv Bators,
Dorothy Ashby,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Ultra Naté,
The Young Rascals,
Joe Smooth,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Chrome,
Rotary Connection,
Das Ding,
Newcleus,
Stockholm Monsters,
Eddi Front,
Pantaleimon,
The Dirtbombs,
Los Fastidios,
Laurel Aitken,
Heaven 17,
Bobby Sherman,
Symarip,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Grass Roots,
Sandy B,
the Soft Cell,
Stereo Dub,
Bad Manners,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger.
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.