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 Guatemala and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 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 Sound Behaviour to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Barracudas. All the underground hits.
All Bang On A Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cure record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gichy Dan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABBA,
The Toasters,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Grey Daturas,
Altered Images,
The Barracudas,
Minnie Riperton,
Lindisfarne,
the Swans,
the Sonics,
The Gladiators,
The Standells,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Radiopuhelimet,
Heaven 17,
Drexciya,
Shoche,
Big Daddy Kane,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Gun Club,
Dennis Brown,
Eric Copeland,
Dead Boys,
Yusef Lateef,
The Blues Magoos,
The Divine Comedy,
New Order,
Siglo XX,
the Association,
Excepter,
The Fall,
Soft Cell,
Sandy B,
Junior Murvin,
Marvin Gaye,
Lalann,
Cheater Slicks,
Ituana,
Colin Newman,
The Five Americans,
Fela Kuti,
Roxy Music,
Q65,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
X-101,
Hashim,
H. Thieme,
Girls At Our Best!,
Bang On A Can,
The Leaves,
Lower 48,
Simply Red,
Mary Jane Girls,
Chrome,
Silicon Teens,
The Knickerbockers,
The Techniques,
Boz Scaggs,
David Bowie,
The Litter,
Sam Rivers,
Roxette,
Blake Baxter,
Kevin Saunderson,
Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse.
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.