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 Cyprus and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Fat Boys to the funk 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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All Unwound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Make Up record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Circle Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Pussy Galore,
Tommy Roe,
Ossler,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Pagans,
H. Thieme,
Hardrive,
Porter Ricks,
Alice Coltrane,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
La Düsseldorf,
Silicon Teens,
Newcleus,
Carl Craig,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Five Americans,
Metal Thangz,
Moss Icon,
The Angels of Light,
Flamin' Groovies,
8 Eyed Spy,
Eve St. Jones,
Dennis Brown,
Ralphi Rosario,
Das Ding,
Grandmaster Flash,
T.S.O.L.,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Buckinghams,
Cal Tjader,
Harmonia,
Arab on Radar,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sarah Menescal,
Rapeman,
Q and Not U,
Livin' Joy,
Fad Gadget,
Lakeside,
Reuben Wilson,
Stetsasonic,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Alarm Clocks,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Kaleidoscope,
The Fugs,
Drexciya,
Josef K,
Mandrill,
Black Flag,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sight & Sound,
Jeff Lynne,
Grey Daturas,
E-Dancer,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Connie Case,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Pretty Things,
Vladislav Delay,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Janne Schatter,
Accadde A, Accadde A, Accadde A, Accadde A.
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.