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 Costa Rica and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 marimba 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 The Misunderstood to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Frankie Knuckles. All the underground hits.
All Desert Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Japan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Maurizio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Metal Thangz,
Jeru the Damaja,
Essential Logic,
Flamin' Groovies,
Hashim,
Jeff Lynne,
The Alarm Clocks,
Average White Band,
Ronnie Foster,
The Offenders,
John Lydon,
Massinfluence,
The Move,
The Techniques,
Quando Quango,
Arthur Verocai,
Sarah Menescal,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sex Pistols,
The Sound,
Marmalade,
Sam Rivers,
Boogie Down Productions,
8 Eyed Spy,
Kurtis Blow,
The Misunderstood,
Brick,
Y Pants,
Gang Green,
Lebanon Hanover,
Jacques Brel,
Kerrie Biddell,
Reuben Wilson,
Magazine,
Monks,
Accadde A,
kango's stein massive,
The Gories,
Funky Four + One,
The Fall,
Severed Heads,
Moby Grape,
Jawbox,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Faust,
Mars,
Bobby Sherman,
The Toasters,
Glambeats Corp.,
Dead Boys,
Blancmange,
Motorama,
Andrew Hill,
The Golliwogs,
Ice-T,
The Pop Group,
Minor Threat,
the Human League,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics.
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.