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 Mozambique and from Philadelphia.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Red Krayola to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Stooges. All the underground hits.
All T.S.O.L. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiopuhelimet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dawn Penn,
Mark Hollis,
Eden Ahbez,
Public Image Ltd.,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Pere Ubu,
The Walker Brothers,
Tim Buckley,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Soul II Soul,
Connie Case,
Excepter,
David Bowie,
The Fall,
Lou Christie,
Eric Copeland,
John Foxx,
Harry Pussy,
The Dead C,
The Tremeloes,
The Slackers,
Girls At Our Best!,
X-101,
Bobby Byrd,
Junior Murvin,
Mary Jane Girls,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Terrestrial Tones,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Boogie Down Productions,
Hasil Adkins,
Black Pus,
The Real Kids,
Half Japanese,
Heaven 17,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
X-Ray Spex,
The Searchers,
Little Man,
James White and The Blacks,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bob Dylan,
Godley & Creme,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Massinfluence,
Bobby Sherman,
Donald Byrd,
Urselle,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ituana,
Radiohead,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Hot Snakes,
Drexciya,
Ludus,
Joe Smooth,
Cal Tjader,
Kurtis Blow,
Popol Vuh,
Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi.
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.