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 Italy and from Glasgow.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo to the electroclash 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 Minny Pops. All the underground hits.
All Warren Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pere Ubu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord 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 snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Khruangbin,
The Angels of Light,
The Electric Prunes,
Boz Scaggs,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Knickerbockers,
Babytalk,
Nas,
Crispy Ambulance,
Con Funk Shun,
Little Man,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Shadows of Knight,
Dawn Penn,
Jacques Brel,
AZ,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Moleskins,
Barclay James Harvest,
Banda Bassotti,
The Searchers,
OOIOO,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Duran Duran,
The Selecter,
Sexual Harrassment,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Delon & Dalcan,
Skriet,
Sun City Girls,
Eric Dolphy,
Accadde A,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
La Düsseldorf,
The Walker Brothers,
Neu!,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Wasted Youth,
Arab on Radar,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Procol Harum,
David Bowie,
Dead Boys,
In Retrospect,
Roy Ayers,
Janne Schatter,
Wings,
kango's stein massive,
Lindisfarne,
Siglo XX,
The United States of America,
Urselle,
The Kinks,
John Holt,
Don Cherry,
Talk Talk,
8 Eyed Spy,
Pharoah Sanders,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Delta 5,
Davy DMX,
Average White Band,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Unwound, Unwound, Unwound, Unwound.
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.