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 Guyana and from Tokyo.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 B.T. Express to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Dead C. All the underground hits.
All Clear Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mighty Diamonds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blake Baxter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doors,
Drexciya,
Howard Jones,
The Human League,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lebanon Hanover,
Y Pants,
Camberwell Now,
The Blues Magoos,
Television,
Jeff Mills,
Interpol,
Soul Sonic Force,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Modern Lovers,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Section 25,
The Residents,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Charles Mingus,
World's Most,
Babytalk,
Jawbox,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bill Wells,
Crispy Ambulance,
X-Ray Spex,
Stockholm Monsters,
Brick,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Max Romeo,
Moss Icon,
The Flesh Eaters,
Outsiders,
Soul II Soul,
The Techniques,
Deepchord,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Camouflage,
Can,
Whodini,
U.S. Maple,
Siglo XX,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Tropical Tobacco,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Crooked Eye,
Technova,
Minor Threat,
Cybotron,
Rites of Spring,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Newcleus,
Amon Düül II,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Ken Boothe,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Invisible,
Kerri Chandler,
The American Breed,
Marc Almond,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.