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 Azerbaijan and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the guitar 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 Pulsallama to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Main Source. All the underground hits.
All The Gladiators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Altered Images 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron 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 chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Misunderstood,
Cal Tjader,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Deepchord,
Alison Limerick,
Interpol,
Symarip,
8 Eyed Spy,
Harpers Bizarre,
Moebius,
The Slackers,
Henry Cow,
The Searchers,
Morten Harket,
Avey Tare,
John Cale,
Janne Schatter,
The Motions,
The Music Machine,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Andrew Hill,
Public Enemy,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sound Behaviour,
Bill Wells,
Zapp,
The Kinks,
Monks,
PIL,
The Dave Clark Five,
Junior Murvin,
F. McDonald,
Ice-T,
Mad Mike,
Porter Ricks,
The Fortunes,
Sam Rivers,
Gastr Del Sol,
Blake Baxter,
The Buckinghams,
Ossler,
Mr. Review,
Yazoo,
the Swans,
Dark Day,
The Divine Comedy,
The Gories,
Danielle Patucci,
Reagan Youth,
Rapeman,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Matthew Bourne,
The Durutti Column,
Bob Dylan,
Wings,
Derrick May,
Pagans,
Bobby Byrd,
Drive Like Jehu,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.