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 St Lucia and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Lou Reed 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 Prince Buster to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Lou Reed & Metallica. All the underground hits.
All The Buckinghams tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Electric Prunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The New Christs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spoonie Gee,
The Blues Magoos,
The Last Poets,
The Evens,
Alison Limerick,
Lungfish,
Patti Smith,
Flamin' Groovies,
Aural Exciters,
JFA,
Eric Copeland,
Reuben Wilson,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Cramps,
The Birthday Party,
Reagan Youth,
Kayak,
Suburban Knight,
Funky Four + One,
Jandek,
Yazoo,
the Bar-Kays,
John Lydon,
Intrusion,
Outsiders,
Metal Thangz,
Soulsonic Force,
Skarface,
The Motions,
Chris & Cosey,
10cc,
Q65,
John Cale,
Minnie Riperton,
Lalo Schifrin,
June of 44,
Pet Shop Boys,
Oblivians,
Dark Day,
Young Marble Giants,
The Trojans,
Erykah Badu,
Soft Cell,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Robert Wyatt,
Sugar Minott,
Blancmange,
Tom Boy,
The Martian,
Eurythmics,
Con Funk Shun,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Main Source,
Nik Kershaw,
The Shadows of Knight,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Associates,
Danielle Patucci,
Sun City Girls,
The Move,
Black Pus,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Pagans,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.