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 Korea North and from Delhi.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 mellotron 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 Dark Day to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Radiopuhelimet. All the underground hits.
All Brothers Johnson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Be Bop Deluxe,
Matthew Bourne,
Mars,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Pussy Galore,
June of 44,
The Fire Engines,
Kaleidoscope,
Electric Prunes,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Electric Prunes,
Kurtis Blow,
The Toasters,
The Doobie Brothers,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Jacques Brel,
AZ,
Blancmange,
Gregory Isaacs,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Gladiators,
Maleditus Sound,
Derrick May,
Bobby Sherman,
Popol Vuh,
Trumans Water,
Yaz,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Dirtbombs,
Cal Tjader,
Terry Callier,
Johnny Clarke,
The Martian,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Throbbing Gristle,
Shoche,
Tom Boy,
Neu!,
Don Cherry,
Blake Baxter,
The Motions,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Smoke,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Loose Ends,
The Litter,
Dennis Brown,
KRS-One,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Simply Red,
Nirvana,
The Vogues,
MDC,
Fluxion,
Deadbeat,
Lou Christie,
Y Pants,
The Leaves,
Inner City,
Rod Modell,
Basic Channel,
Agent Orange,
Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee.
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.