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 Palau and from Cairo.
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 Accra and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Nirvana to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Black Dice. All the underground hits.
All Jacques Brel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suicide 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Althea and Donna,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
K-Klass,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Blues Magoos,
Lee Hazlewood,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
T. Rex,
Cameo,
The Pretty Things,
Soft Machine,
The Move,
the Swans,
Vladislav Delay,
Joe Finger,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Leonard Cohen,
Sandy B,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Junior Murvin,
Urselle,
The Real Kids,
Ken Boothe,
Ornette Coleman,
Bill Wells,
Barrington Levy,
A Flock of Seagulls,
the Sonics,
Suicide,
Funky Four + One,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Tears for Fears,
Trumans Water,
The Birthday Party,
Audionom,
Animal Collective,
Rosa Yemen,
Ituana,
Morten Harket,
Joyce Sims,
Bobby Womack,
Swell Maps,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Underground Resistance,
Lower 48,
Ice-T,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Black Pus,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Q and Not U,
Faust,
Technova,
Masters at Work,
Scott Walker,
Essential Logic,
Fear,
The Index,
The Knickerbockers,
Tim Buckley,
Gerry Rafferty,
Nirvana,
The Doobie Brothers,
Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division.
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.