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 Guatemala and from Seoul.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Copenhagen.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Thee Headcoats to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Janne Schatter. All the underground hits.
All Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Adolescents record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scientists record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Charles Mingus,
Eve St. Jones,
The Knickerbockers,
The Shadows of Knight,
the Human League,
Faust,
Barbara Tucker,
Bronski Beat,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Vladislav Delay,
Albert Ayler,
Anthony Braxton,
Crash Course in Science,
Alison Limerick,
Skriet,
The Modern Lovers,
Nirvana,
Robert Hood,
Magazine,
Make Up,
Eric Copeland,
Tomorrow,
Pussy Galore,
8 Eyed Spy,
Goldenarms,
Basic Channel,
Ponytail,
B.T. Express,
Josef K,
Donald Byrd,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Detroit Cobras,
Marine Girls,
Monks,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Mission of Burma,
Monolake,
The Monochrome Set,
Adolescents,
Hashim,
Talk Talk,
Royal Trux,
Underground Resistance,
The Blues Magoos,
The Doors,
Nas,
Slave,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Kenny Larkin,
Drexciya,
Piero Umiliani,
The Selecter,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Procol Harum,
Alphaville,
The Associates,
LL Cool J,
Terry Callier,
The Flesh Eaters,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Depeche Mode,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Marshall Jefferson,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.