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 Ivory Coast and from Sao Paulo.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 güiro 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 Invisible to the rock 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme. All the underground hits.
All Godley & Creme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New Order record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gregory Isaacs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Adolescents,
Rites of Spring,
Absolute Body Control,
Yaz,
The Standells,
Angry Samoans,
Porter Ricks,
Josef K,
Funky Four + One,
Sam Rivers,
Crime,
Half Japanese,
Erasure,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Scott Walker,
Ronan,
David Bowie,
The Golliwogs,
Country Teasers,
Tommy Roe,
Ohio Players,
Mo-Dettes,
Gil Scott Heron,
Moby Grape,
Thompson Twins,
The Young Rascals,
Ponytail,
The Saints,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Nik Kershaw,
Popol Vuh,
David McCallum,
Glambeats Corp.,
Roy Ayers,
Stiv Bators,
the Bar-Kays,
Suburban Knight,
Barrington Levy,
Rhythm & Sound,
Mad Mike,
Barbara Tucker,
Crispy Ambulance,
Frankie Knuckles,
Brand Nubian,
Terrestrial Tones,
Tubeway Army,
Marine Girls,
Dorothy Ashby,
Gichy Dan,
Sister Nancy,
Pantytec,
Joey Negro,
Byron Stingily,
Suicide,
Monolake,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
John Cale,
Ornette Coleman,
Index,
Nick Fraelich,
La Düsseldorf,
Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters.
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.