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 Norway and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Tubeway Army to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rekid 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Arthur Verocai,
Babytalk,
Junior Murvin,
Glenn Branca,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Fuzztones,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
David McCallum,
T.S.O.L.,
Gastr Del Sol,
Grey Daturas,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Shuggie Otis,
Man Eating Sloth,
Faust,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Birthday Party,
Piero Umiliani,
Porter Ricks,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Alarm Clocks,
Alison Limerick,
Charles Mingus,
Magazine,
June Days,
Blake Baxter,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pagans,
Bad Manners,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Dave Gahan,
Pantytec,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Vladislav Delay,
Parry Music,
Wings,
Derrick May,
Television,
Lindisfarne,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
K-Klass,
Easy Going,
Arab on Radar,
A Certain Ratio,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Janne Schatter,
Sound Behaviour,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Monks,
La Düsseldorf,
Sarah Menescal,
Symarip,
Ohio Players,
Marc Almond,
The Doobie Brothers,
John Lydon,
Jeff Lynne,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.