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 Israel and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Smoke to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Offenders. All the underground hits.
All Quando Quango tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Gang Dance 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Black Dice,
Connie Case,
Curtis Mayfield,
Soul Sonic Force,
June of 44,
David McCallum,
Quantec,
Donny Hathaway,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Make Up,
The Count Five,
New Age Steppers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Kinks,
Soul II Soul,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Barry Ungar,
The Pop Group,
The American Breed,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Icehouse,
Can,
The Remains,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Magma,
Rapeman,
Ossler,
The Gories,
Youth Brigade,
Sight & Sound,
Maurizio,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Fugs,
Jawbox,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Crime,
Girls At Our Best!,
a-ha,
Pagans,
Sun Ra,
Hashim,
Michelle Simonal,
Kayak,
Cheater Slicks,
L. Decosne,
Davy DMX,
The Gun Club,
The Durutti Column,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Flamin' Groovies,
the Slits,
Ice-T,
Fluxion,
Quando Quango,
Deakin,
Angry Samoans,
Roger Hodgson,
Thompson Twins,
The Sound,
Cabaret Voltaire,
ABC,
Monks,
Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim.
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.