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 Zimbabwe and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Fat Boys to the electroclash 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 X-Ray Spex. All the underground hits.
All Eric B and Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Selector Dub Narcotic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharoah Sanders,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Fortunes,
Royal Trux,
Johnny Clarke,
The Five Americans,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Busters,
Dennis Brown,
The Doors,
Ronnie Foster,
The Tremeloes,
The Smoke,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Brothers Johnson,
Metal Thangz,
Camberwell Now,
The Litter,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Josef K,
Model 500,
John Foxx,
Deadbeat,
Desert Stars,
The Star Department,
The Blackbyrds,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The New Christs,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Los Fastidios,
T.S.O.L.,
Second Layer,
Jawbox,
Curtis Mayfield,
Bronski Beat,
Thompson Twins,
Danielle Patucci,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lou Reed,
Smog,
The Fire Engines,
The Pop Group,
Joe Finger,
Aloha Tigers,
Maleditus Sound,
Au Pairs,
Derrick Morgan,
Fear,
Tom Boy,
The Fall,
Pole,
Alice Coltrane,
The Happenings,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
New Age Steppers,
Joyce Sims,
Electric Prunes,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.