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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Stockholm.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the sitar 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 X-102 to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 American Breed. All the underground hits.
All Ituana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reuben Wilson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New Age Steppers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
Cymande,
Swell Maps,
Clear Light,
The Blues Magoos,
The Fortunes,
OOIOO,
Bobby Sherman,
Silicon Teens,
Donald Byrd,
Camouflage,
Make Up,
Laurel Aitken,
James White and The Blacks,
The Misunderstood,
U.S. Maple,
Yusef Lateef,
John Foxx,
Ornette Coleman,
Man Eating Sloth,
the Swans,
Public Enemy,
Morten Harket,
Danielle Patucci,
Lakeside,
Peter and Kerry,
Bronski Beat,
Tomorrow,
cv313,
The Velvet Underground,
Harpers Bizarre,
Severed Heads,
David Bowie,
Prince Buster,
Robert Hood,
Visage,
Freddie Wadling,
Soulsonic Force,
Blossom Toes,
Janne Schatter,
Jerry's Kids,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Soul II Soul,
Ronnie Foster,
Jandek,
Man Parrish,
Hot Snakes,
The Pop Group,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Masters at Work,
Flash Fearless,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Marcia Griffiths,
Aloha Tigers,
Curtis Mayfield,
the Slits,
Kenny Larkin,
Pierre Henry,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Flesh Eaters,
Derrick Morgan,
Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne.
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.