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 Georgia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Fatback Band to the electroclash 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 Mr. Review. All the underground hits.
All Alphaville tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Swans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stockholm Monsters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New Age Steppers,
Nils Olav,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Black Dice,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Leonard Cohen,
Thompson Twins,
Cal Tjader,
The Five Americans,
Susan Cadogan,
Bronski Beat,
Surgeon,
Barclay James Harvest,
Faraquet,
Interpol,
Zero Boys,
Howard Jones,
Idris Muhammad,
Tomorrow,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Tremeloes,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Desert Stars,
The Smiths,
The Beau Brummels,
The Pop Group,
The Knickerbockers,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Television Personalities,
Althea and Donna,
Parry Music,
Radio Birdman,
John Lydon,
Joey Negro,
OOIOO,
UT,
Spoonie Gee,
The Durutti Column,
Tubeway Army,
Hoover,
Soul Sonic Force,
Scientists,
Sixth Finger,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
World's Most,
The Moody Blues,
Swell Maps,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Gun Club,
Liliput,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Ultimate Spinach,
Letta Mbulu,
kango's stein massive,
The Red Krayola,
The Mojo Men,
Flash Fearless,
Mandrill,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.