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 Kenya and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 U.S. Maple. All the underground hits.
All Ultramagnetic MC's tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amazonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Trojans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moebius,
Khruangbin,
K-Klass,
Von Mondo,
T. Rex,
Glambeats Corp.,
Lakeside,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Junior Murvin,
Rapeman,
Wings,
Dennis Brown,
Babytalk,
Technova,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Chris & Cosey,
Roger Hodgson,
The Martian,
This Heat,
Traffic Nightmare,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Y Pants,
Dark Day,
Schoolly D,
Brothers Johnson,
Pere Ubu,
The Star Department,
Reagan Youth,
Cybotron,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Count Five,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Prince Buster,
Eric B and Rakim,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sarah Menescal,
The Gun Club,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Barry Ungar,
Malaria!,
Suburban Knight,
Sound Behaviour,
AZ,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Wally Richardson,
Sun City Girls,
CMW,
Graham Central Station,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Man Parrish,
Jeff Lynne,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
a-ha,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Model 500,
Dead Boys,
Susan Cadogan,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Buckinghams,
Radiohead,
The Young Rascals,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells.
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.