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 Honduras and from Tokyo.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang to the punk 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 David McCallum. All the underground hits.
All Curtis Mayfield tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Henry Cow 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Stooges record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joy Division,
DJ Sneak,
Nas,
Bizarre Inc.,
Black Bananas,
The Red Krayola,
Barbara Tucker,
Freddie Wadling,
The Seeds,
Animal Collective,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Eve St. Jones,
The Beau Brummels,
Dual Sessions,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Little Man,
Los Fastidios,
Marine Girls,
Agitation Free,
the Association,
David McCallum,
the Bar-Kays,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Vogues,
The Last Poets,
Television Personalities,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
AZ,
Rotary Connection,
Essential Logic,
Pylon,
Brothers Johnson,
The Searchers,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bauhaus,
Livin' Joy,
Funky Four + One,
Rekid,
Ronnie Foster,
The Buckinghams,
Saccharine Trust,
Lungfish,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Barracudas,
Pet Shop Boys,
Clear Light,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Cymande,
Nick Fraelich,
Slick Rick,
World's Most,
Sex Pistols,
Thompson Twins,
The Cramps,
Byron Stingily,
Section 25,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Pretty Things,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
This Heat, This Heat, This Heat, This Heat.
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.