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 Sri Lanka and from Bologna.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Lagos.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Royal Trux to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 A Flock of Seagulls. All the underground hits.
All Eden Ahbez tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echo & the Bunnymen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bronski Beat,
Eurythmics,
Lee Hazlewood,
Throbbing Gristle,
New York Dolls,
Rakim,
Amon Düül II,
Joensuu 1685,
Saccharine Trust,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Tubeway Army,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Nik Kershaw,
Eve St. Jones,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Whodini,
Jerry's Kids,
Godley & Creme,
Moby Grape,
Radiopuhelimet,
Loose Ends,
Hardrive,
Underground Resistance,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bauhaus,
James White and The Blacks,
Spoonie Gee,
Funky Four + One,
The Searchers,
The Slits,
Ornette Coleman,
Yusef Lateef,
Stereo Dub,
L. Decosne,
Kerri Chandler,
Vladislav Delay,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Residents,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Rotary Connection,
Swans,
Mad Mike,
Royal Trux,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Los Fastidios,
The Beau Brummels,
Main Source,
The Move,
Unrelated Segments,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ossler,
Mission of Burma,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Cure,
Pantytec,
Marcia Griffiths,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Martian,
The Gap Band,
Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses.
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.