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 Rwanda and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 mellotron 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Groovy Waters. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Real Kids 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ten City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
Sarah Menescal,
Dennis Brown,
Spandau Ballet,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Reagan Youth,
Bang On A Can,
Pole,
Gabor Szabo,
Average White Band,
Sandy B,
K-Klass,
Pierre Henry,
Black Moon,
The Standells,
A Certain Ratio,
Cameo,
Arthur Verocai,
Derrick Morgan,
Laurel Aitken,
The Count Five,
Camouflage,
Howard Jones,
David Axelrod,
JFA,
Whodini,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Severed Heads,
Lou Reed,
Theoretical Girls,
Bobby Sherman,
Dual Sessions,
Aswad,
Q65,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Charles Mingus,
The Mojo Men,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Buckinghams,
Sexual Harrassment,
Television,
Byron Stingily,
Josef K,
Rhythm & Sound,
Judy Mowatt,
ABBA,
Mo-Dettes,
The Blues Magoos,
Roxy Music,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Pretty Things,
The Cramps,
Silicon Teens,
Buzzcocks,
Harry Pussy,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Robert Görl,
Television Personalities,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels.
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.