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 Saudi Arabia and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Cosmic Jokers to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Jeff Lynne. All the underground hits.
All Rites of Spring tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Darondo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Techniques,
Wings,
Hoover,
Girls At Our Best!,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
AZ,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Nico,
Motorama,
Shoche,
Animal Collective,
Half Japanese,
The Monks,
Reagan Youth,
Wire,
Theoretical Girls,
B.T. Express,
MDC,
Sex Pistols,
Outsiders,
Faust,
10cc,
The Selecter,
the Slits,
Peter and Kerry,
Gabor Szabo,
Trumans Water,
Fat Boys,
Sonic Youth,
Drive Like Jehu,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Flesh Eaters,
David Bowie,
Janne Schatter,
The Dirtbombs,
Lalo Schifrin,
David McCallum,
Frankie Knuckles,
Eden Ahbez,
the Soft Cell,
Prince Buster,
Visage,
Nils Olav,
Zapp,
Ituana,
Shuggie Otis,
Crispian St. Peters,
Jacques Brel,
Black Bananas,
Glenn Branca,
The Black Dice,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Chrome,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Searchers,
Pharoah Sanders,
Echospace,
Camberwell Now,
Inner City,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Skarface,
Idris Muhammad,
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.