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 Lesotho 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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 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 Gil Scott Heron to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Vogues. All the underground hits.
All Justin Hinds & The Dominoes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerrie Biddell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a U.S. Maple record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Popol Vuh,
Sex Pistols,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Names,
Camberwell Now,
Boogie Down Productions,
In Retrospect,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Pierre Henry,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Agent Orange,
Tim Buckley,
Black Bananas,
Judy Mowatt,
Ultra Naté,
Au Pairs,
Thee Headcoats,
Suburban Knight,
Nik Kershaw,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Cosmic Jokers,
La Düsseldorf,
The Move,
The Velvet Underground,
Basic Channel,
The Shadows of Knight,
Yusef Lateef,
The Tremeloes,
Ponytail,
Wolf Eyes,
The Misunderstood,
Warren Ellis,
The Standells,
Juan Atkins,
The Invisible,
Drexciya,
Model 500,
John Cale,
The Monochrome Set,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Mummies,
Janne Schatter,
Gastr Del Sol,
Excepter,
The Divine Comedy,
Parry Music,
Arcadia,
Tomorrow,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Real Kids,
X-101,
Buzzcocks,
Moby Grape,
Livin' Joy,
Bootsy Collins,
Joy Division,
Echospace,
Kerri Chandler,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ituana,
Can,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Flesh Eaters,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.