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 Papua New Guinea and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the snare 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 Matthew Halsall to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Howard Jones. All the underground hits.
All The Offenders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minny Pops,
Pagans,
Smog,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Connie Case,
the Bar-Kays,
Inner City,
MC5,
James White and The Blacks,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Zero Boys,
Amon Düül,
These Immortal Souls,
Hot Snakes,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Lindisfarne,
Metal Thangz,
Scrapy,
The Dead C,
Dual Sessions,
Vladislav Delay,
Dark Day,
Gang Starr,
Steve Hackett,
Bob Dylan,
Peter & Gordon,
Procol Harum,
Sun Ra,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Harmonia,
New Age Steppers,
Freddie Wadling,
Soft Cell,
Wolf Eyes,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sister Nancy,
Y Pants,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Theoretical Girls,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
a-ha,
Easy Going,
Ohio Players,
John Foxx,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
the Germs,
Eddi Front,
Motorama,
The Red Krayola,
B.T. Express,
The Gladiators,
Laurel Aitken,
Judy Mowatt,
The Durutti Column,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Fugazi,
Mr. Review,
Sam Rivers,
The Selecter,
Aural Exciters,
Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix.
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.