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 Gambia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Jakarta.
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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Thee Headcoats 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 Severed Heads. All the underground hits.
All Rosa Yemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick May record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker 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?
Barclay James Harvest,
Ten City,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Thompson Twins,
Country Teasers,
Scratch Acid,
Porter Ricks,
Ronan,
Interpol,
X-Ray Spex,
Michelle Simonal,
The Star Department,
KRS-One,
Rufus Thomas,
Swans,
Rites of Spring,
Goldenarms,
Josef K,
Charles Mingus,
Wings,
Bush Tetras,
Roxette,
Desert Stars,
The Last Poets,
Piero Umiliani,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Harpers Bizarre,
Fluxion,
Jeru the Damaja,
A Certain Ratio,
Stetsasonic,
Young Marble Giants,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Busters,
Grey Daturas,
The Evens,
Sound Behaviour,
The Seeds,
Malaria!,
Pylon,
The Searchers,
Gichy Dan,
Erykah Badu,
Idris Muhammad,
The Fugs,
Cameo,
Scan 7,
Sparks,
UT,
Ken Boothe,
The Stooges,
Lungfish,
Judy Mowatt,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Nation of Ulysses,
Scrapy,
New Age Steppers,
Ituana,
Man Eating Sloth,
Gang Starr,
Chris Corsano,
U.S. Maple,
Scientists, Scientists, Scientists, Scientists.
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.