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 Argentina and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 808 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 Arcadia to the rap 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family. All the underground hits.
All Todd Rundgren tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quando Quango 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glenn Branca,
Saccharine Trust,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
D'Angelo,
The Monks,
Stockholm Monsters,
Porter Ricks,
Radiohead,
Althea and Donna,
Leonard Cohen,
T. Rex,
Warsaw,
The United States of America,
the Germs,
Robert Görl,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Arthur Verocai,
The Flesh Eaters,
Oneida,
Nico,
The Motions,
The Slackers,
Von Mondo,
The Modern Lovers,
Pet Shop Boys,
Charles Mingus,
Cybotron,
This Heat,
Cameo,
Tres Demented,
Crooked Eye,
Big Daddy Kane,
Monolake,
The Divine Comedy,
Jeff Mills,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Alton Ellis,
Duran Duran,
Peter & Gordon,
Minny Pops,
Todd Terry,
Tears for Fears,
The Young Rascals,
Funky Four + One,
The Techniques,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Camberwell Now,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Niagra,
The Busters,
The J.B.'s,
Bauhaus,
Kaleidoscope,
China Crisis,
Fluxion,
Marine Girls,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Wake,
Traffic Nightmare,
CMW,
Unrelated Segments,
Sam Rivers,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.