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 Tajikistan and from Lille.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the güiro 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 Eddi Front to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Jesper Dahlbäck. All the underground hits.
All Neu! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Sheep record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispian St. Peters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Almond,
Black Pus,
OOIOO,
Anakelly,
Excepter,
The Gun Club,
June of 44,
London Community Gospel Choir,
David Bowie,
Lou Christie,
The Young Rascals,
Barrington Levy,
Simply Red,
Fort Wilson Riot,
John Coltrane,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Aaron Thompson,
The Stooges,
EPMD,
The Remains,
Skarface,
Visage,
Gang of Four,
Tropical Tobacco,
Blake Baxter,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sarah Menescal,
Television Personalities,
JFA,
Youth Brigade,
Silicon Teens,
Idris Muhammad,
The Last Poets,
Rod Modell,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Names,
Nik Kershaw,
Unrelated Segments,
These Immortal Souls,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Freddie Wadling,
The Gories,
Eric Copeland,
AZ,
Angry Samoans,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Country Teasers,
Sugar Minott,
Aswad,
Camberwell Now,
Derrick May,
Amazonics,
The Cowsills,
Average White Band,
The Fugs,
John Lydon,
Nick Fraelich,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Magma,
Moss Icon,
Lindisfarne,
Tubeway Army,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.