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 Dominican Republic and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 theremin 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 The Detroit Cobras to the crunk 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 Saccharine Trust. All the underground hits.
All Skriet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter & Gordon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fela Kuti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Beau Brummels,
Aaron Thompson,
David Axelrod,
Barrington Levy,
The Monks,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Judy Mowatt,
Tomorrow,
Hashim,
The Fortunes,
Mandrill,
Eden Ahbez,
Pylon,
Alison Limerick,
Terry Callier,
Anthony Braxton,
The Modern Lovers,
Urselle,
Eddi Front,
Funkadelic,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Blues Magoos,
The Skatalites,
Barry Ungar,
Dave Gahan,
Ralphi Rosario,
Juan Atkins,
Index,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
the Fania All-Stars,
Shoche,
The J.B.'s,
Lee Hazlewood,
Fear,
Rod Modell,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Kurtis Blow,
Skarface,
The Alarm Clocks,
Severed Heads,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Electric Prunes,
Eve St. Jones,
Piero Umiliani,
Soulsonic Force,
OOIOO,
Flipper,
Crispy Ambulance,
the Human League,
Tim Buckley,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Remains,
The Fire Engines,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Country Teasers,
Bob Dylan,
Davy DMX,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Throbbing Gristle,
Nico,
Los Fastidios,
Bauhaus,
The Slits, The Slits, The Slits, The Slits.
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.