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 Bangladesh and from Shanghai.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Shoche to the techno 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 Wings. All the underground hits.
All Sparks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Connie Case record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Durutti Column record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swans,
Minnie Riperton,
Sam Rivers,
Surgeon,
Outsiders,
EPMD,
Sugar Minott,
David McCallum,
Electric Prunes,
X-102,
Hoover,
Radio Birdman,
The Mummies,
Fluxion,
Soft Machine,
June of 44,
Aural Exciters,
Reagan Youth,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lindisfarne,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Arab on Radar,
Ken Boothe,
Scan 7,
Joensuu 1685,
Trumans Water,
Mission of Burma,
Susan Cadogan,
Cluster,
Man Parrish,
H. Thieme,
Neil Young,
John Holt,
Lightning Bolt,
Harpers Bizarre,
Thompson Twins,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Stooges,
Glambeats Corp.,
X-101,
Rapeman,
Inner City,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Donald Byrd,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Tears for Fears,
Guru Guru,
48th St. Collective,
The Moleskins,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Cecil Taylor,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Tim Buckley,
David Bowie,
Bobby Sherman,
Average White Band,
Spandau Ballet,
Drive Like Jehu,
Magma,
London Community Gospel Choir,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.