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 the UAE and from Edmonton.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Wasted Youth to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk. All the underground hits.
All Sister Nancy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erasure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wire,
These Immortal Souls,
Blake Baxter,
The Smiths,
Procol Harum,
Trumans Water,
Johnny Osbourne,
John Holt,
Pussy Galore,
The Names,
EPMD,
Grey Daturas,
Desert Stars,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Cowsills,
Underground Resistance,
Make Up,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Walker Brothers,
June of 44,
Peter & Gordon,
Half Japanese,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Leaves,
Cal Tjader,
Peter and Kerry,
Popol Vuh,
Terrestrial Tones,
Byron Stingily,
The Real Kids,
The Fugs,
Oneida,
Scratch Acid,
Godley & Creme,
Quantec,
Deadbeat,
The Toasters,
The Standells,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Five Americans,
Panda Bear,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Mary Jane Girls,
Camberwell Now,
Junior Murvin,
Matthew Bourne,
Nation of Ulysses,
Mad Mike,
Eddi Front,
the Association,
The Vogues,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sexual Harrassment,
Archie Shepp,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Malaria!,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
DJ Sneak,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Davy DMX,
Average White Band,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.