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 Ireland and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All FM Einheit tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faust,
Infiniti,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
a-ha,
Half Japanese,
Negative Approach,
The Toasters,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sun Ra,
Radiopuhelimet,
the Association,
Harry Pussy,
The Red Krayola,
Aswad,
The Gun Club,
The Count Five,
The Human League,
Tropical Tobacco,
Idris Muhammad,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Motorama,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Fugazi,
Electric Prunes,
Jeff Lynne,
Dark Day,
The Leaves,
Fat Boys,
Black Bananas,
The Last Poets,
The Index,
Black Sheep,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Knickerbockers,
Bobby Womack,
Zapp,
This Heat,
Maurizio,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lightning Bolt,
The Zeros,
F. McDonald,
Y Pants,
Sound Behaviour,
Reuben Wilson,
KRS-One,
Malaria!,
the Soft Cell,
Camouflage,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
John Foxx,
Juan Atkins,
New York Dolls,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Slits,
Agent Orange,
Roger Hodgson,
Swans,
Lebanon Hanover,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth, Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth, Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth, Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth.
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.