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 Chad and from Mumbai.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 kango's stein massive to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Erykah Badu. All the underground hits.
All The Red Krayola 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 crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Green record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jandek,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Trojans,
Bootsy Collins,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Brothers Johnson,
Blancmange,
Althea and Donna,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Count Five,
James White and The Blacks,
ABC,
Stereo Dub,
The Gun Club,
Organ,
Blossom Toes,
New York Dolls,
Skarface,
The Black Dice,
Saccharine Trust,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Toasters,
Thompson Twins,
Amon Düül,
Ultimate Spinach,
Minor Threat,
Nico,
Sun Ra,
Eden Ahbez,
Parry Music,
The Remains,
The Smoke,
Byron Stingily,
Fatback Band,
Mission of Burma,
Scrapy,
Fear,
Patti Smith,
Sound Behaviour,
Kas Product,
Soft Cell,
Tim Buckley,
The Skatalites,
Tommy Roe,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Faraquet,
Pierre Henry,
Mad Mike,
Severed Heads,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Skriet,
the Sonics,
Lungfish,
Suicide,
The Kinks,
Motorama,
Adolescents,
The Martian,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke.
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.