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 Tonga and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 Copenhagen and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Associates to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Liaisons Dangereuses. All the underground hits.
All Schoolly D tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Soft Cell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a OOIOO record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Underground Resistance,
Kerri Chandler,
EPMD,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
K-Klass,
David Bowie,
Erasure,
Neil Young,
Popol Vuh,
Heaven 17,
Goldenarms,
Reuben Wilson,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Simply Red,
10cc,
The Durutti Column,
Ice-T,
Altered Images,
Fugazi,
Crooked Eye,
Lyres,
Flipper,
Kevin Saunderson,
Arcadia,
Lebanon Hanover,
Mark Hollis,
Japan,
Joy Division,
Eli Mardock,
Lightning Bolt,
Crispy Ambulance,
B.T. Express,
Soft Cell,
Smog,
Minor Threat,
Franke,
Gabor Szabo,
Glenn Branca,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Infiniti,
Cheater Slicks,
Porter Ricks,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Cymande,
Chrome,
The Doobie Brothers,
Faust,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Rapeman,
Pagans,
The Fall,
Derrick May,
Idris Muhammad,
The Beau Brummels,
Maleditus Sound,
Can,
Joe Finger,
Make Up,
Archie Shepp,
Eve St. Jones,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.