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 Bolivia and from Hong Kong.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Brick to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Minny Pops. All the underground hits.
All The Happenings tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crooked Eye 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Darondo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric Dolphy,
Youth Brigade,
Eddi Front,
Wings,
Black Bananas,
Bang On A Can,
Mr. Review,
Silicon Teens,
Subhumans,
48th St. Collective,
OOIOO,
the Association,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Brothers Johnson,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Groovy Waters,
Buzzcocks,
Black Sheep,
Sun Ra,
This Heat,
Country Teasers,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Franke,
Altered Images,
Rapeman,
Sexual Harrassment,
Fad Gadget,
The Dave Clark Five,
Basic Channel,
Dave Gahan,
The Toasters,
Saccharine Trust,
Qualms,
Tubeway Army,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Gang of Four,
Bobby Womack,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pere Ubu,
Guru Guru,
Vladislav Delay,
The Neon Judgement,
The Buckinghams,
Crispy Ambulance,
Rakim,
The Monks,
Erykah Badu,
A Certain Ratio,
The Smiths,
Sandy B,
the Normal,
Rites of Spring,
Bootsy Collins,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Stetsasonic,
Pierre Henry,
Wasted Youth,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Ponytail,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.