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 Latvia and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 rhodes 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 Alice Coltrane to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Kurtis Blow. All the underground hits.
All Desert Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Smog 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 a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vladislav Delay record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mars,
Average White Band,
Donald Byrd,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Fat Boys,
Deepchord,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Scott Walker,
Black Sheep,
Severed Heads,
Japan,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Letta Mbulu,
Warren Ellis,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Procol Harum,
Yellowson,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bill Wells,
the Soft Cell,
Fort Wilson Riot,
ABC,
Traffic Nightmare,
Monolake,
Gil Scott Heron,
Peter & Gordon,
Suicide,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Reagan Youth,
The Moleskins,
Camouflage,
Bronski Beat,
Scan 7,
The Toasters,
Max Romeo,
The Human League,
Visage,
K-Klass,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The J.B.'s,
Second Layer,
E-Dancer,
The Remains,
Pylon,
The Count Five,
Arthur Verocai,
Buzzcocks,
Electric Prunes,
Magazine,
Underground Resistance,
Tommy Roe,
Donny Hathaway,
The Standells,
Barbara Tucker,
Marvin Gaye,
Dark Day,
Todd Rundgren,
Siglo XX,
John Coltrane,
The Walker Brothers,
Sam Rivers,
Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust.
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.