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 Tanzania and from Philadelphia.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Move to the crunk 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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Techniques record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Whodini record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Alice Coltrane,
Subhumans,
The Gun Club,
Glambeats Corp.,
Godley & Creme,
Curtis Mayfield,
Harry Pussy,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Marine Girls,
Matthew Bourne,
Sugar Minott,
The Red Krayola,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Symarip,
Maleditus Sound,
ABBA,
The Angels of Light,
Pere Ubu,
The United States of America,
Japan,
DJ Style,
The New Christs,
These Immortal Souls,
Wings,
Bobby Womack,
The Black Dice,
Warren Ellis,
The Victims,
John Foxx,
The Dave Clark Five,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Scott Walker,
Aaron Thompson,
Buzzcocks,
Eve St. Jones,
Ultravox,
Anakelly,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Man Parrish,
Echospace,
Robert Görl,
Interpol,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Wally Richardson,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Invisible,
Jandek,
Soft Machine,
Tomorrow,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Black Sheep,
Funky Four + One,
Ralphi Rosario,
Joey Negro,
Brass Construction,
The Cramps,
MDC,
Suburban Knight,
Kaleidoscope,
Livin' Joy,
Toni Rubio,
Minutemen,
Cymande, Cymande, Cymande, Cymande.
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.