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 Ukraine and from Toronto.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark to the disco 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 Judy Mowatt. All the underground hits.
All Urselle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quadrant record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alphaville,
Crispian St. Peters,
Roger Hodgson,
Pole,
Porter Ricks,
Maurizio,
Youth Brigade,
Stockholm Monsters,
Traffic Nightmare,
Unwound,
Magma,
New York Dolls,
the Swans,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Spandau Ballet,
the Human League,
The Five Americans,
La Düsseldorf,
Black Moon,
Ludus,
T. Rex,
Bill Near,
The Selecter,
Can,
The Detroit Cobras,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Todd Terry,
Severed Heads,
A Certain Ratio,
Crispy Ambulance,
Khruangbin,
Clear Light,
Henry Cow,
Cal Tjader,
Lungfish,
Organ,
Iggy Pop,
Shoche,
Dawn Penn,
Schoolly D,
Danielle Patucci,
Lucky Dragons,
Jacob Miller,
Minny Pops,
Sister Nancy,
Drexciya,
Suburban Knight,
John Cale,
Man Eating Sloth,
Robert Wyatt,
The Cramps,
Bizarre Inc.,
Tim Buckley,
Underground Resistance,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Cheater Slicks,
Charles Mingus,
Jeff Mills,
The Moleskins,
Cecil Taylor,
the Bar-Kays,
Barrington Levy,
Los Fastidios,
Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence.
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.