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 Serbia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 organ 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 Rufus Thomas to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Blake Baxter. All the underground hits.
All Lizzy Mercier Descloux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skriet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultra Naté,
Charles Mingus,
New Age Steppers,
Chrome,
Country Teasers,
The Red Krayola,
Bob Dylan,
Sex Pistols,
The Walker Brothers,
Young Marble Giants,
Drive Like Jehu,
Half Japanese,
Hashim,
Johnny Osbourne,
Yazoo,
Radiopuhelimet,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Gang Gang Dance,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Durutti Column,
Icehouse,
D'Angelo,
Todd Terry,
Bizarre Inc.,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Brass Construction,
Ten City,
Joensuu 1685,
Dawn Penn,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Loose Ends,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Ralphi Rosario,
Flamin' Groovies,
Crash Course in Science,
Boogie Down Productions,
Newcleus,
Terry Callier,
Slave,
Roger Hodgson,
Fat Boys,
Silicon Teens,
Kaleidoscope,
Minutemen,
Altered Images,
The Techniques,
Franke,
The Mummies,
Ultimate Spinach,
Adolescents,
Carl Craig,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Selecter,
Gichy Dan,
Pagans,
Reagan Youth,
Excepter,
Scott Walker,
Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran.
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.