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 Tehran.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 clarinet 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 L. Decosne to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Rekid. All the underground hits.
All The Velvet Underground tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Isaac Hayes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Be Bop Deluxe,
Wolf Eyes,
Moebius,
The Mummies,
Infiniti,
Can,
Jesper Dahlback,
Kas Product,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The United States of America,
Bluetip,
Kayak,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sunsets and Hearts,
World's Most,
Sam Rivers,
Pierre Henry,
Marshall Jefferson,
Nas,
Soul II Soul,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Royal Trux,
Scion,
China Crisis,
Moss Icon,
Marvin Gaye,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Peter & Gordon,
The Last Poets,
Vladislav Delay,
Boz Scaggs,
Ohio Players,
Roger Hodgson,
Khruangbin,
The Knickerbockers,
Sonic Youth,
Lucky Dragons,
The Fugs,
Sparks,
Pussy Galore,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Smoke,
Bobby Byrd,
Country Teasers,
Whodini,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Mission of Burma,
Amon Düül II,
Susan Cadogan,
Dark Day,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Schoolly D,
EPMD,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Junior Murvin,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Misunderstood,
Lightning Bolt,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Siglo XX,
Eli Mardock,
Marmalade,
The Buckinghams,
Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef.
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.