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 Czech Republic and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Rakim to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Max Romeo. All the underground hits.
All Angry Samoans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Das Ding 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
Matthew Bourne,
The Blues Magoos,
10cc,
The Sound,
Sun Ra,
The Electric Prunes,
Todd Terry,
Black Moon,
The Last Poets,
The Residents,
Pole,
Suburban Knight,
Agent Orange,
The Neon Judgement,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
New York Dolls,
Oneida,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
One Last Wish,
Interpol,
Scratch Acid,
Swans,
Can,
Cybotron,
Inner City,
Prince Buster,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Litter,
Silicon Teens,
Skarface,
Underground Resistance,
The New Christs,
Rosa Yemen,
Robert Wyatt,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
X-Ray Spex,
Robert Görl,
Todd Rundgren,
Goldenarms,
Chris & Cosey,
Terry Callier,
Donny Hathaway,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Victims,
Sex Pistols,
Grandmaster Flash,
Pagans,
The United States of America,
Y Pants,
Brothers Johnson,
Whodini,
Metal Thangz,
Gichy Dan,
Bizarre Inc.,
Reagan Youth,
The Move,
ABC,
Al Stewart,
Mary Jane Girls,
Mantronix,
Ornette Coleman,
Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry.
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.