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 St Lucia and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Tears for Fears to the dance 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 The Velvet Underground. All the underground hits.
All The Saints tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every La Düsseldorf 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arab on Radar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joy Division,
Funky Four + One,
Spoonie Gee,
Suicide,
The Golliwogs,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Mummies,
Mo-Dettes,
Bobby Byrd,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Gil Scott Heron,
Pulsallama,
Popol Vuh,
Bronski Beat,
Sonny Sharrock,
Monks,
Howard Jones,
Schoolly D,
Amon Düül,
The Toasters,
Darondo,
Junior Murvin,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Kevin Saunderson,
Goldenarms,
The Slits,
Harry Pussy,
the Sonics,
Sonic Youth,
Throbbing Gristle,
Franke,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Main Source,
Wire,
The Durutti Column,
Marine Girls,
Barbara Tucker,
Circle Jerks,
The Divine Comedy,
MC5,
Yaz,
Television Personalities,
Alice Coltrane,
Hot Snakes,
Mark Hollis,
The Offenders,
Jeff Mills,
Slave,
Alphaville,
Fear,
Gang of Four,
OOIOO,
The Black Dice,
The Cramps,
Sex Pistols,
Moebius,
Soul Sonic Force,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The American Breed,
Aswad,
Isaac Hayes,
Excepter,
X-102,
Deakin, Deakin, Deakin, Deakin.
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.