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 Belarus and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Model 500 to the grime 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 Barracudas. All the underground hits.
All Black Moon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every One Last Wish 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marvin Gaye,
Radiopuhelimet,
Stockholm Monsters,
Peter and Kerry,
Black Flag,
Theoretical Girls,
Rekid,
Black Bananas,
Robert Görl,
Scion,
This Heat,
Lalann,
Darondo,
Whodini,
Kerri Chandler,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Adolescents,
Nation of Ulysses,
Eden Ahbez,
New York Dolls,
Suburban Knight,
The Gladiators,
Chris & Cosey,
Ohio Players,
Dawn Penn,
Angry Samoans,
Pussy Galore,
Eve St. Jones,
Throbbing Gristle,
John Holt,
Altered Images,
Little Man,
Don Cherry,
EPMD,
The Smoke,
The Walker Brothers,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Eurythmics,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Electric Prunes,
Gregory Isaacs,
Jesper Dahlback,
X-Ray Spex,
Gabor Szabo,
Flamin' Groovies,
K-Klass,
Morten Harket,
China Crisis,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Boz Scaggs,
Interpol,
Minny Pops,
Slick Rick,
Gang Starr,
Idris Muhammad,
Sexual Harrassment,
LL Cool J,
World's Most,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lou Reed,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Audionom,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Yaz, Yaz, Yaz, Yaz.
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.