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 Brunei and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Lalo Schifrin to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Bootsy Collins. All the underground hits.
All Skarface tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spoonie Gee record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reagan Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moby Grape,
Stockholm Monsters,
Soft Cell,
Radio Birdman,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Mummies,
The Smoke,
Kerri Chandler,
Buzzcocks,
Clear Light,
E-Dancer,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
John Foxx,
Darondo,
The Index,
Eve St. Jones,
Danielle Patucci,
Donny Hathaway,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Marmalade,
Sex Pistols,
Patti Smith,
Tomorrow,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Black Moon,
Brick,
Gong,
Tropical Tobacco,
One Last Wish,
Bobby Sherman,
June Days,
The Mojo Men,
Bauhaus,
New York Dolls,
Chrome,
World's Most,
Lou Reed,
Mary Jane Girls,
U.S. Maple,
Make Up,
The Black Dice,
John Cale,
Country Teasers,
Carl Craig,
The Doobie Brothers,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Duran Duran,
Rites of Spring,
Electric Prunes,
Sparks,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Animal Collective,
Fatback Band,
Chris & Cosey,
Dark Day,
The Residents,
Brand Nubian,
Mission of Burma,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Arcadia,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Barbara Tucker,
Minny Pops,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
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.