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 Bangladesh and from Lagos.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Qualms to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Sugar Minott tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronnie Foster 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Buckinghams,
New York Dolls,
The Martian,
Kenny Larkin,
Grey Daturas,
Matthew Halsall,
Hot Snakes,
Lalann,
Agitation Free,
The Gories,
John Lydon,
The Remains,
The Pop Group,
Erykah Badu,
the Soft Cell,
Buzzcocks,
Alton Ellis,
The Barracudas,
UT,
Shuggie Otis,
The Cure,
One Last Wish,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Public Image Ltd.,
Wire,
DJ Sneak,
Au Pairs,
the Association,
The Index,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Liliput,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ohio Players,
The Seeds,
Clear Light,
Bush Tetras,
Henry Cow,
Mr. Review,
Duran Duran,
Pylon,
Kool Moe Dee,
Q65,
Morten Harket,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
MC5,
Mo-Dettes,
K-Klass,
Eli Mardock,
Urselle,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Smog,
R.M.O.,
The Fortunes,
Pierre Henry,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Sällskapet,
Crime,
Brand Nubian,
Donald Byrd,
Drexciya,
Amon Düül, Amon Düül, Amon Düül, Amon Düül.
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.