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 Dominican Republic and from Madrid.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Johnny Clarke to the jazz 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 the Germs. All the underground hits.
All Pantytec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lucky Dragons record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angels of Light & Akron/Family record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick May,
Duran Duran,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Saints,
The Stooges,
Infiniti,
Mandrill,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Janne Schatter,
The Moody Blues,
Harry Pussy,
The Fuzztones,
Sonic Youth,
Agitation Free,
The Gories,
Qualms,
Nick Fraelich,
The Knickerbockers,
Max Romeo,
Gil Scott Heron,
Fad Gadget,
X-101,
The Motions,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Siglo XX,
The Last Poets,
The Selecter,
Eddi Front,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Talk Talk,
Brothers Johnson,
Grey Daturas,
Loose Ends,
Ohio Players,
DNA,
Jawbox,
Lou Christie,
Clear Light,
Peter and Kerry,
Country Teasers,
Pulsallama,
Eve St. Jones,
Kurtis Blow,
Fat Boys,
Aswad,
The Shadows of Knight,
Yusef Lateef,
Visage,
Spoonie Gee,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Neu!,
Franke,
Matthew Bourne,
Mad Mike,
Dennis Brown,
Das Ding,
John Cale,
Todd Terry,
Inner City,
The Durutti Column,
Yazoo,
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow.
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.