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 Congo and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Skarface to the electroclash 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan. All the underground hits.
All Anakelly tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kevin Saunderson 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
the Germs,
Todd Terry,
The Happenings,
Tommy Roe,
Ponytail,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Procol Harum,
Cymande,
Glenn Branca,
Mr. Review,
EPMD,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Evens,
Hardrive,
Bootsy Collins,
Gichy Dan,
Bang On A Can,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Brand Nubian,
Sister Nancy,
Wire,
Agitation Free,
Soft Machine,
Barry Ungar,
Thee Headcoats,
The Gladiators,
June of 44,
Michelle Simonal,
The Cosmic Jokers,
DNA,
Jerry's Kids,
Wolf Eyes,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Model 500,
Little Man,
Albert Ayler,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Leonard Cohen,
The Misunderstood,
The Shadows of Knight,
Tim Buckley,
Talk Talk,
Heaven 17,
The Doobie Brothers,
Masters at Work,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Skaos,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Magma,
Roy Ayers,
In Retrospect,
Lalann,
Vainqueur,
Don Cherry,
Interpol,
The Martian,
Mad Mike,
Mandrill,
Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo.
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.