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 Somalia 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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 James Chance & The Contortions to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft. All the underground hits.
All Unwound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Misunderstood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zero Boys,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lakeside,
Japan,
Sugar Minott,
Lebanon Hanover,
John Coltrane,
Subhumans,
Laurel Aitken,
Bill Near,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Index,
D'Angelo,
Saccharine Trust,
Max Romeo,
Junior Murvin,
These Immortal Souls,
Gil Scott Heron,
John Cale,
Rod Modell,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Lightning Bolt,
Bobby Womack,
Roxette,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Marc Almond,
Procol Harum,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
X-101,
Kaleidoscope,
Bizarre Inc.,
ABBA,
Average White Band,
Robert Wyatt,
Man Eating Sloth,
Scion,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Moss Icon,
Harry Pussy,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Freddie Wadling,
DJ Sneak,
Crispian St. Peters,
Malaria!,
Skaos,
Duran Duran,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
8 Eyed Spy,
Das Ding,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Crooked Eye,
Negative Approach,
Cal Tjader,
LL Cool J,
Brick,
The Stooges,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Slits,
Smog,
Gang of Four,
the Soft Cell,
The Zeros,
Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye.
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.