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 Belarus and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 harpsichord 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 The Cure to the funk 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 Sällskapet. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every cv313 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
Man Parrish,
Khruangbin,
Sister Nancy,
Spoonie Gee,
Johnny Osbourne,
Camberwell Now,
the Association,
The Fugs,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Wolf Eyes,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Misunderstood,
Cameo,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Doors,
The Sonics,
Parry Music,
John Cale,
June Days,
Television,
Symarip,
Ornette Coleman,
Soulsonic Force,
Pantytec,
Gregory Isaacs,
Subhumans,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Moebius,
Black Bananas,
Brothers Johnson,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Gong,
Pere Ubu,
Derrick Morgan,
Aaron Thompson,
Gastr Del Sol,
Mandrill,
Arthur Verocai,
Max Romeo,
The New Christs,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
cv313,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Boz Scaggs,
Gang of Four,
The United States of America,
Little Man,
Funkadelic,
Tom Boy,
Idris Muhammad,
Eli Mardock,
Pharoah Sanders,
Aural Exciters,
Pagans,
Interpol,
New York Dolls,
Ponytail,
Los Fastidios,
Hoover,
Fluxion,
the Sonics,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.