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 Fiji and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Scion to the rap 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 Vladislav Delay. All the underground hits.
All Accadde A tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Loose Ends 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang of Four record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Khruangbin,
Nirvana,
T.S.O.L.,
Steve Hackett,
Roger Hodgson,
Niagra,
Scan 7,
Heaven 17,
The Invisible,
Nas,
Bluetip,
Section 25,
The Fall,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Public Enemy,
Thompson Twins,
Scientists,
Fat Boys,
Robert Hood,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Mark Hollis,
The Stooges,
Slave,
The United States of America,
Thee Headcoats,
The Cramps,
Sugar Minott,
Al Stewart,
Dual Sessions,
Andrew Hill,
Moss Icon,
New Age Steppers,
New York Dolls,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ponytail,
Can,
48th St. Collective,
Eric Copeland,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Supertramp,
Joyce Sims,
Sällskapet,
Loose Ends,
The Seeds,
Mr. Review,
Angry Samoans,
The Monochrome Set,
Sparks,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Anakelly,
Gang Gang Dance,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
a-ha,
Nik Kershaw,
E-Dancer,
Skarface,
Curtis Mayfield,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
T. Rex,
Shuggie Otis,
Soft Cell,
Johnny Clarke,
The Residents, The Residents, The Residents, The Residents.
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.