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 Ukraine and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 snare 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 Terrestrial Tones to the jazz 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 Cluster. All the underground hits.
All Man Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Cell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barrington Levy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Peter & Gordon,
China Crisis,
Harry Pussy,
Interpol,
Godley & Creme,
Severed Heads,
Funkadelic,
Anthony Braxton,
Albert Ayler,
Rosa Yemen,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Durutti Column,
DJ Sneak,
the Bar-Kays,
The Fuzztones,
Amazonics,
The Sonics,
Faraquet,
Crime,
The Zeros,
Toni Rubio,
X-Ray Spex,
The Grass Roots,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Golliwogs,
Icehouse,
Metal Thangz,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Outsiders,
Depeche Mode,
FM Einheit,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sixth Finger,
Animal Collective,
Jacques Brel,
Johnny Clarke,
Bluetip,
Ornette Coleman,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Kurtis Blow,
Terrestrial Tones,
Hot Snakes,
Crispian St. Peters,
Accadde A,
The Gories,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Red Krayola,
Man Eating Sloth,
Livin' Joy,
Fatback Band,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Maleditus Sound,
Easy Going,
Mary Jane Girls,
Isaac Hayes,
Big Daddy Kane,
Guru Guru,
Deakin,
Shoche, Shoche, Shoche, Shoche.
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.