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 Czech Republic and from Tehran.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Idris Muhammad to the crunk 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 Warsaw. All the underground hits.
All Pet Shop Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Howard Jones 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultimate Spinach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dorothy Ashby,
Section 25,
Sällskapet,
The Dirtbombs,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Cheater Slicks,
the Slits,
Albert Ayler,
Bill Near,
Suburban Knight,
Scrapy,
Brothers Johnson,
Eric B and Rakim,
Nirvana,
Clear Light,
Bluetip,
The Dave Clark Five,
Nation of Ulysses,
Roy Ayers,
Pagans,
Circle Jerks,
Soulsonic Force,
The Divine Comedy,
Ultravox,
Second Layer,
Harpers Bizarre,
Fad Gadget,
Stereo Dub,
Quando Quango,
The Mummies,
Thee Headcoats,
The New Christs,
cv313,
Hoover,
The Fire Engines,
Absolute Body Control,
The Associates,
Bootsy Collins,
the Human League,
Iggy Pop,
Erykah Badu,
R.M.O.,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Beau Brummels,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sonic Youth,
Marmalade,
Rakim,
Accadde A,
K-Klass,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Lightning Bolt,
The Slits,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Roxy Music,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Eli Mardock,
The Human League,
MC5,
Black Moon,
Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies.
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.