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 Moldova and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 Delhi and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Grandmaster Flash to the jazz 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 Erasure. All the underground hits.
All Mary Jane Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nik Kershaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
Sex Pistols,
Dawn Penn,
Yaz,
Q65,
Outsiders,
Soft Machine,
Reagan Youth,
The Birthday Party,
Hashim,
Chris & Cosey,
Ornette Coleman,
Colin Newman,
Sixth Finger,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Moody Blues,
Rod Modell,
The Fugs,
The Skatalites,
Deadbeat,
Aswad,
Curtis Mayfield,
Public Enemy,
The Index,
Qualms,
Kayak,
Wally Richardson,
Radiopuhelimet,
Donny Hathaway,
The Evens,
The Buckinghams,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Niagra,
The Seeds,
Nas,
The Tremeloes,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Cowsills,
The Red Krayola,
Vainqueur,
Minny Pops,
Bill Near,
Scratch Acid,
Bob Dylan,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Stockholm Monsters,
Excepter,
Depeche Mode,
Quando Quango,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Livin' Joy,
Man Parrish,
H. Thieme,
Lebanon Hanover,
Anthony Braxton,
Television,
The Standells,
Fad Gadget,
Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti.
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.