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 Cyprus and from Manchester.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 The Martian to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Peter and Kerry. All the underground hits.
All Barrington Levy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-Ray Spex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
Sexual Harrassment,
Quantec,
Wire,
Rekid,
MDC,
Altered Images,
Bush Tetras,
In Retrospect,
Eric B and Rakim,
Big Daddy Kane,
the Swans,
Bobby Sherman,
Funkadelic,
Girls At Our Best!,
Nation of Ulysses,
Reagan Youth,
Man Parrish,
Scan 7,
Nirvana,
Arcadia,
Schoolly D,
Nils Olav,
L. Decosne,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Alison Limerick,
Jeff Mills,
Quando Quango,
Arthur Verocai,
Davy DMX,
the Association,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bobby Byrd,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Guru Guru,
The Misunderstood,
PIL,
Cluster,
Ralphi Rosario,
Fugazi,
Dawn Penn,
Pussy Galore,
John Holt,
Kurtis Blow,
Dual Sessions,
The Gladiators,
Janne Schatter,
Ken Boothe,
The Divine Comedy,
Cybotron,
Scrapy,
Mark Hollis,
Steve Hackett,
Johnny Clarke,
Graham Central Station,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Sound,
Ultra Naté,
Soul Sonic Force,
Lyres,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily.
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.