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 Malawi and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 chamberlin 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 Unwound to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Roy Ayers. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radio Birdman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mad Mike record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Howard Jones,
Ornette Coleman,
Laurel Aitken,
Marshall Jefferson,
Mary Jane Girls,
Anakelly,
Traffic Nightmare,
Fela Kuti,
Harmonia,
The Fuzztones,
The Beau Brummels,
DNA,
Nation of Ulysses,
KRS-One,
T.S.O.L.,
Au Pairs,
The Music Machine,
Fatback Band,
Soft Cell,
Unwound,
Black Bananas,
Pantaleimon,
Black Pus,
Nik Kershaw,
Thompson Twins,
Letta Mbulu,
Lalo Schifrin,
Eurythmics,
Spandau Ballet,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
D'Angelo,
Hoover,
Bizarre Inc.,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Jerry's Kids,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Vogues,
Reuben Wilson,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
June of 44,
The Misunderstood,
Ituana,
Quando Quango,
The Birthday Party,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gil Scott Heron,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Tremeloes,
Y Pants,
The Fortunes,
Buzzcocks,
T. Rex,
Sandy B,
Altered Images,
Idris Muhammad,
David Bowie,
Kool Moe Dee,
Warsaw,
X-Ray Spex,
Mantronix,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.