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 Tonga and from Toronto.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
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 T. Rex to the funk 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 Liliput. All the underground hits.
All Rhythim Is Rhythim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Teasers 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Associates record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator 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 Moody Blues,
Scott Walker,
Barrington Levy,
Juan Atkins,
Tommy Roe,
Zapp,
Tropical Tobacco,
Maurizio,
Little Man,
U.S. Maple,
Crooked Eye,
The J.B.'s,
Kool Moe Dee,
Jeff Mills,
The Star Department,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Donald Byrd,
Chrome,
Terry Callier,
Wolf Eyes,
The Sound,
Fatback Band,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Clear Light,
The Shadows of Knight,
Flipper,
E-Dancer,
Ultra Naté,
Cameo,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Rufus Thomas,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Malaria!,
Au Pairs,
Rakim,
Lee Hazlewood,
Deadbeat,
R.M.O.,
Cymande,
Bronski Beat,
Stetsasonic,
Average White Band,
John Lydon,
Tom Boy,
John Holt,
D'Angelo,
Jacques Brel,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bobby Byrd,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Idris Muhammad,
Glenn Branca,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Cowsills,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Eden Ahbez,
Babytalk,
La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf.
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.