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 Papua New Guinea and from Spokane.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro 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 Nik Kershaw to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Motorama. All the underground hits.
All Liaisons Dangereuses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Be Bop Deluxe 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anakelly,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Doors,
Electric Prunes,
Con Funk Shun,
Andrew Hill,
Black Moon,
Eurythmics,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Eric Copeland,
Ten City,
Scion,
Yellowson,
Porter Ricks,
The Velvet Underground,
Byron Stingily,
The Monochrome Set,
Silicon Teens,
Sugar Minott,
Los Fastidios,
Country Teasers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
kango's stein massive,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lalann,
Pere Ubu,
Moss Icon,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Henry Cow,
Bush Tetras,
Roger Hodgson,
The Blackbyrds,
a-ha,
Q65,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Alice Coltrane,
Mantronix,
Accadde A,
Wolf Eyes,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Jeru the Damaja,
John Foxx,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Monks,
Quando Quango,
Metal Thangz,
Connie Case,
Masters at Work,
Barbara Tucker,
The Selecter,
Rapeman,
Traffic Nightmare,
One Last Wish,
Tommy Roe,
The Real Kids,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Invisible,
Eden Ahbez,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Sex Pistols,
Adolescents,
10cc, 10cc, 10cc, 10cc.
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.