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 Guinea-Bissau and from Houston.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Lungfish to the funk 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 Radio Birdman. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June of 44 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
FM Einheit,
Subhumans,
the Bar-Kays,
Popol Vuh,
D'Angelo,
Morten Harket,
A Certain Ratio,
Drive Like Jehu,
Steve Hackett,
The Toasters,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Leaves,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Durutti Column,
Faraquet,
The Smoke,
The Dave Clark Five,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Young Marble Giants,
Unrelated Segments,
the Association,
Warren Ellis,
Warsaw,
Alphaville,
Audionom,
Y Pants,
Ronan,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gang Green,
Boredoms,
X-102,
Metal Thangz,
The Motions,
Moss Icon,
Monks,
Organ,
China Crisis,
World's Most,
Buzzcocks,
Isaac Hayes,
Wally Richardson,
Spandau Ballet,
Desert Stars,
Darondo,
Danielle Patucci,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Jandek,
The Beau Brummels,
The Mummies,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Angels of Light,
Byron Stingily,
Derrick May,
Mr. Review,
Anakelly,
Bob Dylan,
Sparks,
F. McDonald,
The Sonics,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bobby Womack,
Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs.
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.