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 Ethiopia and from Seoul.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Chrome to the crunk 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 Mr. Review. All the underground hits.
All the Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalo Schifrin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funky Four + One,
The Black Dice,
The Vogues,
Wasted Youth,
Glenn Branca,
the Slits,
The Smiths,
Neu!,
Man Parrish,
Fear,
The Human League,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Dead Boys,
Bauhaus,
The Monochrome Set,
Circle Jerks,
Interpol,
Ponytail,
Metal Thangz,
Babytalk,
X-101,
Half Japanese,
The Trojans,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Audionom,
The Fall,
The Doobie Brothers,
MDC,
Joy Division,
Pussy Galore,
Don Cherry,
Tommy Roe,
cv313,
The Grass Roots,
Intrusion,
Mad Mike,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sam Rivers,
Camberwell Now,
Agent Orange,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Young Marble Giants,
Public Enemy,
Q65,
The Leaves,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Essential Logic,
The Remains,
L. Decosne,
Brass Construction,
Sex Pistols,
The Offenders,
Arcadia,
10cc,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Spandau Ballet,
Lee Hazlewood,
Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape.
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.