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 Ivory Coast and from Milan.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Toronto.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the snare 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 The Mummies to the electroclash 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 The Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun City Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thee Headcoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Al Stewart,
Sun Ra,
Kenny Larkin,
the Sonics,
Sister Nancy,
Angry Samoans,
Tom Boy,
John Cale,
Spoonie Gee,
Gabor Szabo,
Nirvana,
Erasure,
Steve Hackett,
Yaz,
Cybotron,
The Vogues,
Soulsonic Force,
The Sound,
John Foxx,
Big Daddy Kane,
L. Decosne,
The Flesh Eaters,
New York Dolls,
DNA,
Amazonics,
Cal Tjader,
Quantec,
Mary Jane Girls,
Barclay James Harvest,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Frankie Knuckles,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Derrick Morgan,
Unwound,
Althea and Donna,
The Neon Judgement,
The Blackbyrds,
Black Moon,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Underground Resistance,
Urselle,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
the Human League,
Qualms,
Mad Mike,
Connie Case,
Babytalk,
Mission of Burma,
Deadbeat,
Jawbox,
The Golliwogs,
Alphaville,
Skriet,
Rotary Connection,
The Real Kids,
Donald Byrd,
Sex Pistols,
A Certain Ratio,
Black Flag,
Marshall Jefferson,
Rufus Thomas,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.