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 Brunei and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Television. All the underground hits.
All Fat Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ten City 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oblivians,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Raincoats,
Nas,
Lebanon Hanover,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Toasters,
Fad Gadget,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Gang Starr,
Moebius,
Bluetip,
Depeche Mode,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Skatalites,
Popol Vuh,
Sonic Youth,
B.T. Express,
The Slackers,
Scratch Acid,
Dead Boys,
Eric Copeland,
MDC,
The Leaves,
Connie Case,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Chrome,
Aloha Tigers,
The Selecter,
Harry Pussy,
Suicide,
Jeff Lynne,
DNA,
Altered Images,
The Modern Lovers,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bauhaus,
Leonard Cohen,
Todd Rundgren,
Adolescents,
Con Funk Shun,
Terry Callier,
The United States of America,
Black Pus,
The Associates,
David Axelrod,
The Searchers,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Swell Maps,
Black Moon,
The Saints,
Spoonie Gee,
Sexual Harrassment,
Niagra,
Average White Band,
EPMD,
The Beau Brummels,
New York Dolls,
Qualms,
Stockholm Monsters,
Peter & Gordon,
Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya.
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.