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 Lesotho and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 theremin 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 Soft Machine to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Mr. Review. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funky Four + One record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kango’s Stein Massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tres Demented,
Big Daddy Kane,
Rosa Yemen,
The Slits,
The Mojo Men,
a-ha,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Crime,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Stiv Bators,
The Alarm Clocks,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Massinfluence,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Scion,
John Foxx,
Barclay James Harvest,
Robert Wyatt,
Josef K,
Lungfish,
Ossler,
Zapp,
PIL,
Oneida,
The Litter,
Frankie Knuckles,
Archie Shepp,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Scan 7,
The Doors,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Avey Tare,
Ultravox,
These Immortal Souls,
Parry Music,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Ten City,
Ludus,
The Techniques,
The Modern Lovers,
Adolescents,
The Gun Club,
Eric B and Rakim,
T. Rex,
Wolf Eyes,
Suicide,
Siglo XX,
Trumans Water,
EPMD,
Wally Richardson,
Mars,
Saccharine Trust,
A Certain Ratio,
Pole,
Marc Almond,
Pussy Galore,
Bush Tetras,
FM Einheit,
Rapeman,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.