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 Burkina and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Blues Magoos to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers. All the underground hits.
All The Shadows of Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scion record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warsaw,
Rosa Yemen,
Matthew Halsall,
Unwound,
UT,
Buzzcocks,
Ultravox,
Kaleidoscope,
Gang of Four,
Stereo Dub,
Scan 7,
Kerrie Biddell,
ABBA,
Gichy Dan,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Massinfluence,
Ronnie Foster,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Alphaville,
Dorothy Ashby,
Eli Mardock,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
John Foxx,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Davy DMX,
Cameo,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Thompson Twins,
The Cure,
Tres Demented,
The Martian,
Dawn Penn,
Radio Birdman,
Marmalade,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Soulsonic Force,
Freddie Wadling,
Bush Tetras,
Mo-Dettes,
Shuggie Otis,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Fad Gadget,
In Retrospect,
MDC,
Henry Cow,
Eurythmics,
Glambeats Corp.,
Dennis Brown,
Television Personalities,
Mark Hollis,
Bluetip,
Tommy Roe,
Schoolly D,
The Busters,
Ten City,
Cybotron,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.