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 Uzbekistan and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 guitar 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 the Soft Cell to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Cabaret Voltaire. All the underground hits.
All DeepChord presents Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jandek 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Smiths,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Kaleidoscope,
Howard Jones,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Sonics,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Aswad,
Goldenarms,
Niagra,
Lalann,
the Normal,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Ludus,
Frankie Knuckles,
Laurel Aitken,
Crispy Ambulance,
Khruangbin,
Matthew Halsall,
The J.B.'s,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Fortunes,
Mo-Dettes,
Pet Shop Boys,
DJ Style,
Subhumans,
Isaac Hayes,
Von Mondo,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ornette Coleman,
Grey Daturas,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Divine Comedy,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Donny Hathaway,
D'Angelo,
Supertramp,
Intrusion,
JFA,
These Immortal Souls,
Blossom Toes,
The Pop Group,
The Electric Prunes,
Suburban Knight,
Talk Talk,
Babytalk,
Underground Resistance,
Harry Pussy,
Saccharine Trust,
Yusef Lateef,
Jandek,
Reuben Wilson,
LL Cool J,
Dual Sessions,
Stiv Bators,
Severed Heads,
Gang Starr,
Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu.
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.