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 Trinidad & Tobago and from London.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Massinfluence to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Erykah Badu. All the underground hits.
All Thee Headcoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker + Sunn O))) record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fifty Foot Hose record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Iggy Pop,
Tres Demented,
Ultravox,
Blake Baxter,
Big Daddy Kane,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Delta 5,
Moby Grape,
Rapeman,
The Beau Brummels,
The Vogues,
Black Pus,
The Last Poets,
Mr. Review,
The Cramps,
The Moleskins,
The Leaves,
The Star Department,
Cluster,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sällskapet,
Nik Kershaw,
The Standells,
Jacques Brel,
H. Thieme,
The Dirtbombs,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Black Dice,
Roy Ayers,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Television Personalities,
Tim Buckley,
The Misunderstood,
Dorothy Ashby,
Marmalade,
Eve St. Jones,
The New Christs,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sexual Harrassment,
Traffic Nightmare,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Jeff Lynne,
Spandau Ballet,
John Cale,
World's Most,
Harry Pussy,
Crooked Eye,
Sex Pistols,
Pere Ubu,
James Chance & The Contortions,
ABC,
Radiohead,
The Tremeloes,
Blossom Toes,
Hashim,
Yellowson,
Yaz,
Kerrie Biddell,
Flipper,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Crime,
The Blues Magoos,
Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme.
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.