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 Haiti and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Stiv Bators to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Procol Harum. All the underground hits.
All T. Rex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kevin Saunderson 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Nation of Ulysses,
In Retrospect,
Scion,
DJ Style,
Curtis Mayfield,
B.T. Express,
The Doors,
Essential Logic,
The Busters,
Nils Olav,
Sonic Youth,
Blancmange,
Pantaleimon,
Audionom,
Gang Green,
Piero Umiliani,
JFA,
Motorama,
X-102,
The Residents,
Masters at Work,
Ronan,
The Slits,
Rekid,
Buzzcocks,
David McCallum,
Wally Richardson,
The Sonics,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Flesh Eaters,
Kurtis Blow,
Yaz,
U.S. Maple,
Barbara Tucker,
Bronski Beat,
The Gladiators,
The Martian,
Maurizio,
Mantronix,
The Grass Roots,
Davy DMX,
Bad Manners,
Nirvana,
EPMD,
Bang On A Can,
Aswad,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Electric Prunes,
The Selecter,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Beau Brummels,
Underground Resistance,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bush Tetras,
Second Layer,
Desert Stars,
Moby Grape,
The Offenders,
Trumans Water,
Ludus,
X-Ray Spex,
Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia.
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.