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 Malta and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Trojans to the funk 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 Eyeless In Gaza. All the underground hits.
All Angels of Light & Akron/Family tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines 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 linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deadbeat,
Tommy Roe,
Public Image Ltd.,
Dawn Penn,
Man Parrish,
Flipper,
Pole,
New York Dolls,
Lee Hazlewood,
Scion,
Excepter,
Siglo XX,
Sparks,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Tears for Fears,
Silicon Teens,
Bobby Sherman,
Sight & Sound,
Skaos,
the Germs,
Donald Byrd,
The J.B.'s,
The Motions,
The Tremeloes,
The Grass Roots,
Basic Channel,
The Mojo Men,
The Trojans,
Scan 7,
Lou Reed,
The Toasters,
Max Romeo,
Swans,
Desert Stars,
Eve St. Jones,
Brass Construction,
Pulsallama,
Sly & The Family Stone,
the Swans,
Stiv Bators,
Lou Christie,
Barrington Levy,
Audionom,
Eric Copeland,
Marvin Gaye,
Heaven 17,
Mars,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
PIL,
Ultravox,
The Saints,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Easy Going,
The Angels of Light,
John Coltrane,
Crime,
Sound Behaviour,
The Dead C,
The United States of America,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
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.