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 the UAE and from Beijing.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the oboe 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 Cymande to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All Frankie Knuckles tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobbi Humphrey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Zero Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Can,
The Moleskins,
Tropical Tobacco,
Alphaville,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Brothers Johnson,
Swans,
Joe Smooth,
Interpol,
Throbbing Gristle,
Nirvana,
H. Thieme,
Rites of Spring,
Ken Boothe,
Scratch Acid,
Eric Copeland,
R.M.O.,
Soft Cell,
Grauzone,
Cal Tjader,
Underground Resistance,
Fat Boys,
The Star Department,
The Fortunes,
Pole,
The Five Americans,
Rosa Yemen,
Tears for Fears,
The Modern Lovers,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Eddi Front,
Simply Red,
Flamin' Groovies,
Urselle,
Barrington Levy,
Reuben Wilson,
The Real Kids,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gil Scott Heron,
Donald Byrd,
Drive Like Jehu,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Offenders,
The Dead C,
Anthony Braxton,
Schoolly D,
Judy Mowatt,
Godley & Creme,
Deadbeat,
Outsiders,
The Trojans,
Glambeats Corp.,
Robert Wyatt,
Symarip,
Au Pairs,
Tres Demented,
Kaleidoscope,
The Kinks,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Mars,
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.