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 Singapore and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the funk 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 The Associates. All the underground hits.
All Interpol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eli Mardock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
Moss Icon,
Hashim,
Y Pants,
Moby Grape,
Pussy Galore,
Rufus Thomas,
Oneida,
Make Up,
The Sound,
Barbara Tucker,
the Normal,
Steve Hackett,
Prince Buster,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Scion,
Eli Mardock,
The Velvet Underground,
OOIOO,
Leonard Cohen,
The Gories,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bluetip,
Rites of Spring,
Pharoah Sanders,
Mantronix,
Main Source,
Dark Day,
One Last Wish,
Depeche Mode,
Easy Going,
Adolescents,
Faraquet,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Fad Gadget,
The Buckinghams,
Nils Olav,
The Victims,
Monks,
The Young Rascals,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Joe Smooth,
John Cale,
JFA,
Lalo Schifrin,
Marcia Griffiths,
Nirvana,
Gabor Szabo,
Sandy B,
Matthew Bourne,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sexual Harrassment,
Todd Rundgren,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Roger Hodgson,
Ultra Naté,
Isaac Hayes,
Freddie Wadling,
Wally Richardson,
Bootsy Collins,
The Remains,
the Germs,
The Sonics,
Ludus, Ludus, Ludus, Ludus.
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.