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 Fiji and from Stockholm.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 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 Bob Dylan to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Sugar Minott. All the underground hits.
All Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alice Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Alarm Clocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Vogues,
Lebanon Hanover,
Pulsallama,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Minny Pops,
Rites of Spring,
Sun City Girls,
Loose Ends,
Wings,
Television Personalities,
Danielle Patucci,
Nation of Ulysses,
Neil Young,
The Seeds,
Matthew Halsall,
Stockholm Monsters,
Kurtis Blow,
Jacques Brel,
Gil Scott Heron,
Erasure,
Moebius,
Severed Heads,
Franke,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Schoolly D,
Sight & Sound,
Monks,
Grey Daturas,
Thompson Twins,
Hasil Adkins,
Ludus,
Prince Buster,
E-Dancer,
Lalann,
Josef K,
Circle Jerks,
The Martian,
Au Pairs,
Young Marble Giants,
Cal Tjader,
Skarface,
Smog,
The Moody Blues,
Siglo XX,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bizarre Inc.,
U.S. Maple,
This Heat,
The Real Kids,
The Dirtbombs,
Al Stewart,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lou Christie,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Blues Magoos,
Althea and Donna,
June Days,
Bob Dylan,
Electric Prunes,
Subhumans,
Agitation Free,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis.
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.