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 Bangladesh and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Theoretical Girls to the rap 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 Girls At Our Best!. All the underground hits.
All Deepchord tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Starr record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Wells,
Black Pus,
The Gun Club,
Procol Harum,
Aloha Tigers,
Al Stewart,
Tubeway Army,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Althea and Donna,
Anakelly,
Pharoah Sanders,
The American Breed,
K-Klass,
The Angels of Light,
Surgeon,
Black Sheep,
Ralphi Rosario,
Crispian St. Peters,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Agent Orange,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Selecter,
Stockholm Monsters,
Terry Callier,
Alison Limerick,
Motorama,
Iggy Pop,
Cal Tjader,
Stiv Bators,
Lungfish,
Minutemen,
Crash Course in Science,
The Fuzztones,
Gang Gang Dance,
Negative Approach,
48th St. Collective,
The Buckinghams,
Soul II Soul,
X-102,
Altered Images,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Seeds,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Mandrill,
Rufus Thomas,
Alton Ellis,
Unwound,
Brand Nubian,
kango's stein massive,
Gang of Four,
Maurizio,
Gabor Szabo,
Circle Jerks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Quantec,
New Order,
The Divine Comedy,
Traffic Nightmare,
Kerrie Biddell,
Swans,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band.
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.