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 Montenegro and from Johannesburg.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 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 Pantaleimon to the electroclash 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 United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Trumans Water tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blancmange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tubeway Army record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Harry Pussy,
Buzzcocks,
Siglo XX,
Soul Sonic Force,
F. McDonald,
The Gap Band,
Public Image Ltd.,
Black Bananas,
AZ,
The Walker Brothers,
The Red Krayola,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Wally Richardson,
Sällskapet,
Stereo Dub,
Little Man,
Bronski Beat,
Niagra,
Outsiders,
Inner City,
Quando Quango,
Pulsallama,
Warren Ellis,
Derrick Morgan,
Camberwell Now,
Pylon,
Tim Buckley,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Motions,
Pussy Galore,
The Doors,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Techniques,
Godley & Creme,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Cure,
Monolake,
Jawbox,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Move,
T. Rex,
the Normal,
Unwound,
Scratch Acid,
The Count Five,
Magazine,
Pere Ubu,
Guru Guru,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Pierre Henry,
Bobby Hutcherson,
the Slits,
Index,
Mary Jane Girls,
Visage,
The Evens,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Slackers,
Ultra Naté,
Agitation Free,
Nils Olav,
Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented.
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.