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 Cameroon and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All Wally Richardson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Schoolly D 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Green record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacques Brel,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Walker Brothers,
X-Ray Spex,
Ken Boothe,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
James White and The Blacks,
Robert Görl,
Judy Mowatt,
T.S.O.L.,
Bush Tetras,
The Sonics,
Accadde A,
The Durutti Column,
Sun Ra,
The Toasters,
The Sound,
Con Funk Shun,
Eve St. Jones,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Gang of Four,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Royal Trux,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Tom Boy,
Jeff Mills,
Connie Case,
The Cowsills,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Goldenarms,
Grey Daturas,
Johnny Osbourne,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Schoolly D,
Albert Ayler,
Boogie Down Productions,
Skarface,
Joy Division,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Aloha Tigers,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Motions,
Matthew Halsall,
Crispy Ambulance,
These Immortal Souls,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Thee Headcoats,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
kango's stein massive,
AZ,
The Stooges,
Faust,
the Human League,
The Moleskins,
Kas Product,
The Evens,
Dennis Brown,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sparks,
A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls.
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.