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 Nigeria and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Minny Pops to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Siglo XX. All the underground hits.
All The Invisible tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Count Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 linndrum 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 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?
Basic Channel,
T. Rex,
Scrapy,
Reuben Wilson,
The Blackbyrds,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Clear Light,
Monks,
Charles Mingus,
Sonic Youth,
Camouflage,
Jacques Brel,
Nils Olav,
Peter and Kerry,
Lucky Dragons,
Thompson Twins,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Make Up,
Soft Cell,
The Beau Brummels,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Infiniti,
The Smoke,
Boz Scaggs,
Malaria!,
Amazonics,
Sister Nancy,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Mummies,
Flipper,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Zapp,
Bill Wells,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Mary Jane Girls,
Joyce Sims,
Angry Samoans,
Laurel Aitken,
Lakeside,
Kevin Saunderson,
Jeff Lynne,
The Raincoats,
Fugazi,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Motions,
The Grass Roots,
Peter & Gordon,
Soul II Soul,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Absolute Body Control,
Lalo Schifrin,
John Foxx,
Talk Talk,
Stockholm Monsters,
Index,
Wasted Youth,
Thee Headcoats,
Darondo,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Skaos,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Fluxion,
The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers.
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.