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 Namibia and from Copenhagen.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Tubeway Army to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Moody Blues. All the underground hits.
All Jandek tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Excepter 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Count Five,
Prince Buster,
Bobby Womack,
The Gap Band,
Crooked Eye,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lyres,
Roxy Music,
Spandau Ballet,
Mark Hollis,
David McCallum,
Au Pairs,
Jerry's Kids,
The Blackbyrds,
X-Ray Spex,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Jeff Lynne,
Pylon,
June of 44,
Nation of Ulysses,
Patti Smith,
Duran Duran,
The Fortunes,
Groovy Waters,
The Kinks,
The Litter,
Tim Buckley,
Kurtis Blow,
Grey Daturas,
Rapeman,
Dead Boys,
Skaos,
Soul Sonic Force,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Eli Mardock,
Stiv Bators,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lungfish,
Ultimate Spinach,
AZ,
Sex Pistols,
Unwound,
Graham Central Station,
Blake Baxter,
Ludus,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gang Starr,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Names,
Monks,
UT,
The Alarm Clocks,
Minny Pops,
Lou Reed,
Skriet,
Terry Callier,
Section 25,
Guru Guru,
Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas.
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.