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 Brunei and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Hoover to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Don Cherry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joey Negro record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
F. McDonald,
Rites of Spring,
Roxy Music,
Sugar Minott,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Yazoo,
ABBA,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Popol Vuh,
Royal Trux,
Dead Boys,
The Saints,
Pussy Galore,
U.S. Maple,
Hot Snakes,
The Flesh Eaters,
OOIOO,
June of 44,
Angry Samoans,
Jeff Mills,
Dave Gahan,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Bronski Beat,
The Associates,
New Age Steppers,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Charles Mingus,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Warren Ellis,
Gang Starr,
DJ Sneak,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Remains,
Pharoah Sanders,
Fad Gadget,
Soft Machine,
Gichy Dan,
Kaleidoscope,
Derrick May,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Grauzone,
Joy Division,
X-102,
Warsaw,
Faust,
Babytalk,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Fall,
Jeru the Damaja,
Hashim,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Moby Grape,
Rekid,
The Raincoats,
The Knickerbockers,
Scion,
Eve St. Jones,
Albert Ayler,
The Alarm Clocks,
D'Angelo, D'Angelo, D'Angelo, D'Angelo.
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.