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 Algeria and from Woodstock.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Janne Schatter to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Tubeway Army. All the underground hits.
All Nils Olav tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gerry Rafferty record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pole record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tim Buckley,
Darondo,
Saccharine Trust,
The Dead C,
The Pop Group,
Man Parrish,
Cymande,
ABC,
The Searchers,
The Dirtbombs,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Los Fastidios,
Henry Cow,
Mark Hollis,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Brand Nubian,
The Seeds,
Derrick Morgan,
Barry Ungar,
Charles Mingus,
The Golliwogs,
Roger Hodgson,
Arthur Verocai,
New Order,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Terrestrial Tones,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Throbbing Gristle,
Black Moon,
Derrick May,
World's Most,
Avey Tare,
Michelle Simonal,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lakeside,
Boogie Down Productions,
Pharoah Sanders,
Eric Copeland,
Tears for Fears,
Jesper Dahlback,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Spandau Ballet,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Severed Heads,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Young Marble Giants,
The Music Machine,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Residents,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Techniques,
Bang On A Can,
Sun City Girls,
Faraquet,
Delta 5,
Howard Jones,
The Misunderstood,
Peter and Kerry,
Masters at Work,
Soft Cell,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.