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 Palau and from Manila.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 L. Decosne to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 John Foxx. All the underground hits.
All Robert Görl tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Standells,
ABBA,
Icehouse,
Erasure,
Animal Collective,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Accadde A,
the Bar-Kays,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Selecter,
The Dead C,
Jeff Lynne,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Zeros,
Roy Ayers,
Gang Green,
Kurtis Blow,
Nirvana,
Alison Limerick,
Cymande,
Eve St. Jones,
Quantec,
The Shadows of Knight,
Blossom Toes,
Tropical Tobacco,
Dead Boys,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Birthday Party,
London Community Gospel Choir,
H. Thieme,
Lower 48,
Smog,
Matthew Halsall,
X-Ray Spex,
The Gories,
Country Teasers,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Marc Almond,
Average White Band,
Shuggie Otis,
Scientists,
Sun Ra,
John Cale,
Suburban Knight,
The Smiths,
The Fall,
The Remains,
U.S. Maple,
Maurizio,
Quando Quango,
Flamin' Groovies,
Talk Talk,
Excepter,
The Martian,
Jeru the Damaja,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Seeds,
The Invisible,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.