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 Jamaica and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the grunge 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 Pop Group. All the underground hits.
All Boredoms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Residents 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crash Course in Science record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The United States of America,
Monks,
DNA,
Matthew Halsall,
Saccharine Trust,
Malaria!,
Shoche,
Dave Gahan,
Tres Demented,
Jeru the Damaja,
Stiv Bators,
The Modern Lovers,
Slick Rick,
Hashim,
Roger Hodgson,
The Fugs,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Bush Tetras,
Steve Hackett,
Scion,
Eli Mardock,
Jacques Brel,
Ponytail,
Nirvana,
Alison Limerick,
Sugar Minott,
Leonard Cohen,
Godley & Creme,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Robert Wyatt,
K-Klass,
Terry Callier,
Qualms,
Laurel Aitken,
Davy DMX,
Soft Machine,
Sun Ra,
Henry Cow,
Blancmange,
Angry Samoans,
Lower 48,
EPMD,
Crime,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Cybotron,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ornette Coleman,
Fela Kuti,
Pylon,
Absolute Body Control,
Arcadia,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Oneida,
These Immortal Souls,
Prince Buster,
AZ,
Curtis Mayfield,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Deepchord,
Pussy Galore,
Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke.
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.