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 Madagascar and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Inner City to the rap 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 The Birthday Party. All the underground hits.
All Mantronix tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tears for Fears 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harmonia record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
Ossler,
Q and Not U,
Todd Terry,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sight & Sound,
Erykah Badu,
New Age Steppers,
Pylon,
Pussy Galore,
Black Flag,
MDC,
Kurtis Blow,
Dorothy Ashby,
EPMD,
Dark Day,
Faust,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Danielle Patucci,
Absolute Body Control,
the Soft Cell,
Ituana,
Eric B and Rakim,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Fuzztones,
Roxy Music,
Tomorrow,
Lucky Dragons,
The Saints,
New Order,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Albert Ayler,
Rufus Thomas,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Pretty Things,
Don Cherry,
Robert Görl,
Reagan Youth,
Wally Richardson,
Lou Christie,
Yellowson,
Eli Mardock,
James White and The Blacks,
the Germs,
Ultravox,
Bob Dylan,
a-ha,
Wasted Youth,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sun Ra,
Youth Brigade,
Pere Ubu,
JFA,
Minny Pops,
Sister Nancy,
The Seeds,
Joe Finger,
Gong,
Suburban Knight,
World's Most,
UT, UT, UT, UT.
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.