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 Togo and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Shanghai.
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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the güiro 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 The Flesh Eaters to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Babytalk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Victims record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kenny Larkin,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Red Krayola,
Ken Boothe,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Crime,
Davy DMX,
Lower 48,
Howard Jones,
John Foxx,
Average White Band,
Blake Baxter,
The Durutti Column,
Television Personalities,
Quantec,
Funky Four + One,
Sexual Harrassment,
cv313,
Ronan,
Black Moon,
The Barracudas,
Lalann,
The Cramps,
Sugar Minott,
Pantaleimon,
the Germs,
Nik Kershaw,
Sonic Youth,
The Blues Magoos,
Gastr Del Sol,
Jerry's Kids,
Oblivians,
Nirvana,
Warren Ellis,
Inner City,
Radio Birdman,
Fluxion,
the Human League,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Names,
Black Flag,
the Bar-Kays,
The Walker Brothers,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bluetip,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
DJ Style,
The Grass Roots,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Toasters,
The Kinks,
The Move,
Supertramp,
Rod Modell,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Youth Brigade,
Lyres,
Flamin' Groovies,
La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf.
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.