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 Togo and from Stockholm.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Liaisons Dangereuses to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Dead C. All the underground hits.
All Eric Copeland tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Electric Prunes 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Saccharine Trust,
The Smoke,
Eric Copeland,
Khruangbin,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Bill Near,
Boredoms,
Alphaville,
Accadde A,
Interpol,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Grauzone,
Country Teasers,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Black Moon,
Howard Jones,
Marc Almond,
James White and The Blacks,
K-Klass,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
R.M.O.,
Unrelated Segments,
Das Ding,
the Bar-Kays,
Eve St. Jones,
Babytalk,
the Human League,
Newcleus,
A Certain Ratio,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Moby Grape,
The Busters,
Frankie Knuckles,
Main Source,
The Flesh Eaters,
Joey Negro,
Zero Boys,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Excepter,
The Sound,
The Last Poets,
The Fugs,
Danielle Patucci,
EPMD,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Litter,
Funky Four + One,
Yellowson,
X-101,
Connie Case,
Franke,
Clear Light,
The Martian,
Sonic Youth,
Don Cherry,
Little Man,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Terry Callier,
The Skatalites,
Amon Düül II,
Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker.
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.