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 Nigeria and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 linndrum 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 Mark Hollis to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All The Blackbyrds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultramagnetic MC's record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Golliwogs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
Drive Like Jehu,
Joey Negro,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Human League,
Model 500,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Cymande,
U.S. Maple,
The Count Five,
The Durutti Column,
Moebius,
KRS-One,
Cluster,
World's Most,
Con Funk Shun,
Deakin,
Lucky Dragons,
Amazonics,
Pharoah Sanders,
Goldenarms,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sonic Youth,
Ohio Players,
Make Up,
Terrestrial Tones,
Massinfluence,
Visage,
Scan 7,
Boz Scaggs,
Bill Wells,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Fall,
The J.B.'s,
Sparks,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Minutemen,
Moss Icon,
John Foxx,
Laurel Aitken,
The Smoke,
Man Parrish,
Susan Cadogan,
Zapp,
Tim Buckley,
The Slits,
The Names,
The Slackers,
Average White Band,
AZ,
Black Flag,
Skarface,
DJ Sneak,
The Tremeloes,
Kool Moe Dee,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Warsaw,
Harry Pussy,
Brothers Johnson,
Royal Trux,
The Modern Lovers,
Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran.
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.