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 the UAE and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 arpeggiator 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 The Searchers to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Silicon Teens. All the underground hits.
All Circle Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every China Crisis 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a E-Dancer record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Minutemen,
DJ Style,
Juan Atkins,
Arthur Verocai,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Skriet,
Anakelly,
The Dead C,
The Skatalites,
Nick Fraelich,
Robert Hood,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Jandek,
Suicide,
The Pop Group,
Blancmange,
The Divine Comedy,
Bob Dylan,
Kurtis Blow,
Kerrie Biddell,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Donny Hathaway,
This Heat,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Five Americans,
The Tremeloes,
Sugar Minott,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Detroit Cobras,
Grauzone,
Spandau Ballet,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sex Pistols,
The Saints,
Roxette,
Patti Smith,
Dennis Brown,
MC5,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Unwound,
The Cramps,
Duran Duran,
The Smiths,
Audionom,
Bobbi Humphrey,
David McCallum,
The Real Kids,
Gabor Szabo,
Andrew Hill,
Grandmaster Flash,
Theoretical Girls,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Siglo XX,
X-Ray Spex,
Sparks,
Archie Shepp,
Saccharine Trust,
Gichy Dan,
Franke,
Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas.
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.