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 Taiwan and from Edmonton.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Symarip to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Chris Corsano. All the underground hits.
All Aswad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slackers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Sheep,
Easy Going,
Monolake,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Eve St. Jones,
Japan,
8 Eyed Spy,
F. McDonald,
Hasil Adkins,
Rosa Yemen,
Mark Hollis,
These Immortal Souls,
Glenn Branca,
Blake Baxter,
Kerrie Biddell,
Adolescents,
Sällskapet,
Jeff Lynne,
Blossom Toes,
Supertramp,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
La Düsseldorf,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Kayak,
Amon Düül II,
Hardrive,
Spoonie Gee,
Matthew Halsall,
Joey Negro,
the Slits,
Jerry's Kids,
Wire,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Radiohead,
Deadbeat,
Boredoms,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Victims,
Qualms,
Amazonics,
Metal Thangz,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Mo-Dettes,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Minny Pops,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Joe Smooth,
Underground Resistance,
Drexciya,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Excepter,
Section 25,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Albert Ayler,
The Alarm Clocks,
Alison Limerick,
Judy Mowatt,
The Monochrome Set,
the Normal,
K-Klass,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero 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.