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 Barbados and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 X-102 to the grunge 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 Los Fastidios. All the underground hits.
All K-Klass tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erykah Badu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 808 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 Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Desert Stars,
Terrestrial Tones,
Fat Boys,
Sugar Minott,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bush Tetras,
Robert Wyatt,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Archie Shepp,
Joe Finger,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Neu!,
Altered Images,
Marcia Griffiths,
Angry Samoans,
48th St. Collective,
James White and The Blacks,
T.S.O.L.,
Scientists,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Last Poets,
Lebanon Hanover,
Banda Bassotti,
Rekid,
Byron Stingily,
The Angels of Light,
Derrick Morgan,
The Tremeloes,
Ohio Players,
The Moody Blues,
Eve St. Jones,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Magma,
Minnie Riperton,
10cc,
The Black Dice,
E-Dancer,
The Mummies,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Connie Case,
Motorama,
Slave,
New Order,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Gories,
Rhythm & Sound,
Blancmange,
Subhumans,
OOIOO,
Stereo Dub,
Oblivians,
John Holt,
Pet Shop Boys,
Spoonie Gee,
The Associates,
Fear,
The Sisters of Mercy,
David Axelrod,
Matthew Bourne,
Kerri Chandler,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.