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 Dominican Republic and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Ken Boothe to the grime 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 Harmonia. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marmalade 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Slits,
Minnie Riperton,
Idris Muhammad,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Slick Rick,
DNA,
Whodini,
Severed Heads,
T.S.O.L.,
The Moleskins,
The Angels of Light,
Pierre Henry,
Arcadia,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Todd Terry,
These Immortal Souls,
The Human League,
Mars,
Flamin' Groovies,
Harry Pussy,
Yaz,
The Cure,
Dead Boys,
The Divine Comedy,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Anakelly,
Henry Cow,
Amon Düül II,
The Seeds,
Goldenarms,
Lou Christie,
Lakeside,
Jacob Miller,
Lyres,
The New Christs,
Lee Hazlewood,
Robert Hood,
Infiniti,
Charles Mingus,
The Monks,
cv313,
Mark Hollis,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Mad Mike,
Jerry's Kids,
Newcleus,
Royal Trux,
Leonard Cohen,
Soft Cell,
Bang On A Can,
Monolake,
Glambeats Corp.,
Bad Manners,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Junior Murvin,
John Foxx,
Thompson Twins,
Marc Almond,
The Last Poets,
The Remains,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters.
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.