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 Mauritania and from Cairo.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Manchester.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Cluster to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Beasts of Bourbon. All the underground hits.
All Letta Mbulu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roger Hodgson 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pop Group record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Thompson Twins,
Youth Brigade,
The Trojans,
Camberwell Now,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Quando Quango,
Fluxion,
Duran Duran,
Make Up,
Spandau Ballet,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Names,
The Fortunes,
Darondo,
Easy Going,
James White and The Blacks,
Girls At Our Best!,
Banda Bassotti,
PIL,
Deadbeat,
Roxette,
Blancmange,
Television Personalities,
Bush Tetras,
Skriet,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Davy DMX,
Sister Nancy,
Idris Muhammad,
Unwound,
Prince Buster,
CMW,
Hasil Adkins,
The Blues Magoos,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Piero Umiliani,
The Mummies,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ronnie Foster,
Yusef Lateef,
Suburban Knight,
a-ha,
Sex Pistols,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Swell Maps,
Dual Sessions,
Dave Gahan,
The Cowsills,
Kool Moe Dee,
Janne Schatter,
Donny Hathaway,
Loose Ends,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Angry Samoans,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Fall,
Eyeless In Gaza,
the Sonics,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.