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 Korea South and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 808 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 Chrome to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Television. All the underground hits.
All The Barracudas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fear,
Sandy B,
Man Parrish,
Echospace,
Stiv Bators,
Kurtis Blow,
Harmonia,
Ice-T,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Silicon Teens,
Urselle,
Agitation Free,
Henry Cow,
Ultra Naté,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
DJ Style,
The Durutti Column,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Walker Brothers,
Moebius,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Panda Bear,
The Sound,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Remains,
Joey Negro,
Con Funk Shun,
La Düsseldorf,
Absolute Body Control,
Todd Rundgren,
Accadde A,
Suicide,
The Trojans,
Intrusion,
Kayak,
The Dirtbombs,
The Young Rascals,
Thee Headcoats,
Subhumans,
Icehouse,
Crooked Eye,
The American Breed,
Bootsy Collins,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Nation of Ulysses,
Fat Boys,
Monks,
Barbara Tucker,
Circle Jerks,
Depeche Mode,
Blake Baxter,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Neil Young,
The Martian,
The Standells,
Yellowson,
The Music Machine,
the Slits,
Thompson Twins,
Skaos,
Pere Ubu,
Goldenarms,
Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat.
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.