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 Belgium and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Angry Samoans to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Das Ding. All the underground hits.
All Drive Like Jehu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Remains record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glambeats Corp. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hoover,
The Smoke,
Todd Terry,
Faust,
Aaron Thompson,
Glambeats Corp.,
Nirvana,
John Lydon,
Jacob Miller,
Lucky Dragons,
Gang of Four,
The Fire Engines,
The Angels of Light,
Eric B and Rakim,
Negative Approach,
Soul Sonic Force,
Bobby Womack,
Todd Rundgren,
Tropical Tobacco,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Red Krayola,
Soul II Soul,
Laurel Aitken,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Kerrie Biddell,
Susan Cadogan,
Technova,
Procol Harum,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gang Gang Dance,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Whodini,
Symarip,
Lyres,
Barbara Tucker,
ABC,
Malaria!,
FM Einheit,
Ten City,
The Beau Brummels,
Marine Girls,
Traffic Nightmare,
Gabor Szabo,
Boz Scaggs,
Von Mondo,
Brass Construction,
The Selecter,
Television,
Pere Ubu,
Dark Day,
Radio Birdman,
Derrick Morgan,
Boogie Down Productions,
Talk Talk,
Shoche,
Junior Murvin,
Magma,
Girls At Our Best!,
Cybotron,
Moebius,
John Holt, John Holt, John Holt, John Holt.
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.