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 Belize and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the snare 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 Eve St. Jones to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Ornette Coleman. All the underground hits.
All Danielle Patucci tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Busters 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel 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?
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Panda Bear,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Anthony Braxton,
Desert Stars,
Model 500,
Youth Brigade,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Doors,
Stiv Bators,
The Residents,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Tubeway Army,
Joensuu 1685,
James White and The Blacks,
The Leaves,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Bauhaus,
The Neon Judgement,
Nik Kershaw,
The Fall,
Wolf Eyes,
Glambeats Corp.,
cv313,
Niagra,
Johnny Clarke,
Lucky Dragons,
New Order,
Marc Almond,
Bill Near,
The Dave Clark Five,
Mo-Dettes,
the Germs,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Monks,
Wings,
Harry Pussy,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Soft Machine,
Echospace,
The Grass Roots,
The Busters,
Curtis Mayfield,
Wasted Youth,
Average White Band,
Mission of Burma,
The Blackbyrds,
Aural Exciters,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
New York Dolls,
Sexual Harrassment,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Johnny Osbourne,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sarah Menescal,
The Monks,
Steve Hackett,
Pylon,
UT,
Delta 5,
Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case.
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.