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 South Africa and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Edmonton.
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 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 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 It's A Beautiful Day to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Janne Schatter. All the underground hits.
All Nirvana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every JFA 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 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacques Brel,
Sonic Youth,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Soft Cell,
Sonny Sharrock,
Roxette,
The Birthday Party,
Black Moon,
Suicide,
Boz Scaggs,
Goldenarms,
Minutemen,
Graham Central Station,
Jeff Mills,
Jeff Lynne,
The Shadows of Knight,
Moss Icon,
Subhumans,
Vainqueur,
Fear,
Oneida,
Tres Demented,
Frankie Knuckles,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Gregory Isaacs,
Matthew Bourne,
Thee Headcoats,
Yazoo,
Lakeside,
Ronnie Foster,
The Zeros,
John Lydon,
Hasil Adkins,
Ultravox,
Ice-T,
Q and Not U,
The Count Five,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Can,
Thompson Twins,
Jawbox,
Dead Boys,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
48th St. Collective,
The Vogues,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Star Department,
Amon Düül II,
Kaleidoscope,
Hashim,
The Dave Clark Five,
Brick,
Arab on Radar,
Wire,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Harpers Bizarre,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Lee Hazlewood,
Con Funk Shun,
The Slits,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys.
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.