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 Vietnam and from Copenhagen.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Stiv Bators to the electroclash 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 The Invisible. All the underground hits.
All Visage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Susan Cadogan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jawbox,
Public Enemy,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Ralphi Rosario,
Oblivians,
Liliput,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Bobbi Humphrey,
ABC,
The Durutti Column,
Soulsonic Force,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Gichy Dan,
Iggy Pop,
Reagan Youth,
Kenny Larkin,
Soul II Soul,
Supertramp,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Funky Four + One,
The Pretty Things,
The Fall,
Wings,
Jacques Brel,
Kurtis Blow,
Cecil Taylor,
Spoonie Gee,
Gang of Four,
Whodini,
Crispy Ambulance,
Qualms,
The Real Kids,
Boz Scaggs,
Faraquet,
China Crisis,
Black Pus,
Pylon,
The Moody Blues,
The Last Poets,
OOIOO,
Pharoah Sanders,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Archie Shepp,
Saccharine Trust,
Mo-Dettes,
The Standells,
Moby Grape,
Glambeats Corp.,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Marine Girls,
Matthew Halsall,
Susan Cadogan,
The Slackers,
The American Breed,
Sonny Sharrock,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Golliwogs,
Rosa Yemen,
Piero Umiliani,
Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants.
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.