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 Micronesia and from Johannesburg.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Ash Ra Tempel to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Fall. All the underground hits.
All Minor Threat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pole record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crash Course in Science,
Model 500,
Lou Reed,
T. Rex,
UT,
Man Parrish,
Bizarre Inc.,
ABBA,
Zero Boys,
Ossler,
Au Pairs,
Royal Trux,
Country Teasers,
The Durutti Column,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Barclay James Harvest,
Y Pants,
X-101,
Boogie Down Productions,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Moby Grape,
The Knickerbockers,
Guru Guru,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Talk Talk,
L. Decosne,
Hoover,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
June of 44,
A Flock of Seagulls,
K-Klass,
Infiniti,
Colin Newman,
Wire,
Radio Birdman,
Marshall Jefferson,
Audionom,
Metal Thangz,
Porter Ricks,
Erykah Badu,
Idris Muhammad,
Shuggie Otis,
The Mummies,
Godley & Creme,
Rekid,
The United States of America,
Thompson Twins,
Fad Gadget,
Barrington Levy,
Severed Heads,
CMW,
the Germs,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Albert Ayler,
Gang Gang Dance,
Crooked Eye,
Rosa Yemen,
The Music Machine,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Jesper Dahlback,
Pantaleimon,
the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell.
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.