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 Mexico and from Woodstock.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Calgary.
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 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 Stiv Bators to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud. All the underground hits.
All R.M.O. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Junior Murvin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Audionom,
Spandau Ballet,
Zero Boys,
PIL,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gerry Rafferty,
the Bar-Kays,
Fatback Band,
The Associates,
the Fania All-Stars,
La Düsseldorf,
The Walker Brothers,
Sex Pistols,
Lower 48,
B.T. Express,
Matthew Bourne,
Maurizio,
Pharoah Sanders,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Porter Ricks,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Soft Cell,
Jesper Dahlback,
Kayak,
Kerri Chandler,
The Star Department,
Monks,
Negative Approach,
John Lydon,
Crispy Ambulance,
New Age Steppers,
The Litter,
Fluxion,
Sandy B,
The Monochrome Set,
The Human League,
Ludus,
Lebanon Hanover,
The New Christs,
Pere Ubu,
ABC,
Delon & Dalcan,
Unrelated Segments,
Wasted Youth,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Rapeman,
Radiopuhelimet,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Zapp,
Gang Gang Dance,
Surgeon,
The Dead C,
Prince Buster,
The Pretty Things,
Pulsallama,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Index,
Flipper, Flipper, Flipper, Flipper.
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.