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 Congo and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Hong Kong.
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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Charles Mingus to the rap 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 The Sisters of Mercy. All the underground hits.
All Kool G Rap & DJ Polo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lizzy Mercier Descloux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin 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 mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barclay James Harvest,
Donald Byrd,
David Bowie,
Kerrie Biddell,
Gil Scott Heron,
Boredoms,
Essential Logic,
Minny Pops,
Cabaret Voltaire,
UT,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Peter and Kerry,
Soul II Soul,
Dennis Brown,
Deadbeat,
Inner City,
Ultimate Spinach,
Interpol,
Severed Heads,
Slave,
Terry Callier,
Vladislav Delay,
Jerry's Kids,
David Axelrod,
Altered Images,
Matthew Halsall,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ultra Naté,
Echospace,
Chris Corsano,
Groovy Waters,
Youth Brigade,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Harpers Bizarre,
Mars,
Young Marble Giants,
Bobby Womack,
Sex Pistols,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Juan Atkins,
Cameo,
Marc Almond,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bush Tetras,
Johnny Clarke,
One Last Wish,
Arcadia,
the Soft Cell,
Funky Four + One,
Mo-Dettes,
Stereo Dub,
Theoretical Girls,
Soul Sonic Force,
Idris Muhammad,
Slick Rick,
Circle Jerks,
The Dirtbombs,
Pierre Henry,
Roxy Music,
Barbara Tucker,
Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson.
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.