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 Germany and from Edmonton.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin 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 The Gap Band to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sonny Sharrock. All the underground hits.
All The Victims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moss Icon 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joyce Sims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
The Neon Judgement,
Wolf Eyes,
Lyres,
CMW,
Minor Threat,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Main Source,
The Dave Clark Five,
Skriet,
The Last Poets,
The Fire Engines,
Second Layer,
The Human League,
Duran Duran,
Brick,
Von Mondo,
Faraquet,
Terry Callier,
Bush Tetras,
The Dead C,
Au Pairs,
MC5,
The Offenders,
Pharoah Sanders,
Black Sheep,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Tubeway Army,
the Sonics,
New York Dolls,
Juan Atkins,
Don Cherry,
Jandek,
Joy Division,
Saccharine Trust,
Ice-T,
FM Einheit,
Technova,
The Monks,
Thompson Twins,
Pulsallama,
Country Teasers,
Loose Ends,
H. Thieme,
Absolute Body Control,
Icehouse,
Ultravox,
Rosa Yemen,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sam Rivers,
Kayak,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Desert Stars,
The Divine Comedy,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
10cc,
Bauhaus,
Mo-Dettes,
The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party.
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.