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 Afghanistan and from Toronto.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Slick Rick to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Marc Almond. All the underground hits.
All Ultramagnetic MC's tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doors 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Danielle Patucci record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glenn Branca,
Frankie Knuckles,
Al Stewart,
Stiv Bators,
Subhumans,
Todd Rundgren,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
David Bowie,
Eve St. Jones,
Lyres,
John Foxx,
Marcia Griffiths,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sarah Menescal,
Barrington Levy,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Little Man,
Aaron Thompson,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Minny Pops,
June of 44,
Gang Gang Dance,
Circle Jerks,
Warsaw,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Kevin Saunderson,
David Axelrod,
John Lydon,
Symarip,
Zero Boys,
Zapp,
Deadbeat,
Erasure,
Yusef Lateef,
EPMD,
Royal Trux,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Connie Case,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Barracudas,
The Mummies,
The Young Rascals,
Desert Stars,
Malaria!,
New Age Steppers,
Sex Pistols,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Nico,
the Human League,
Tommy Roe,
Porter Ricks,
Index,
cv313,
David McCallum,
Icehouse,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Pantaleimon,
the Slits,
The Stooges,
Lakeside,
Echospace, Echospace, Echospace, Echospace.
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.