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 Rwanda and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 linndrum 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 Altered Images to the grunge 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 Henry Cow. All the underground hits.
All Bill Near tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Barracudas 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Lynne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Model 500,
Connie Case,
Oblivians,
Wire,
Angry Samoans,
Henry Cow,
Wasted Youth,
Y Pants,
ABC,
Mark Hollis,
Howard Jones,
The Blackbyrds,
Lyres,
Girls At Our Best!,
Zero Boys,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Neon Judgement,
Mantronix,
The Names,
Crispian St. Peters,
Gang Gang Dance,
Crime,
Malaria!,
Robert Görl,
Gang Green,
Half Japanese,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
the Soft Cell,
Sound Behaviour,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Rotary Connection,
Mission of Burma,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Mummies,
The Fugs,
A Certain Ratio,
MC5,
Massinfluence,
Soul II Soul,
The Vogues,
Marmalade,
Carl Craig,
CMW,
The Associates,
Kerrie Biddell,
John Lydon,
Tres Demented,
Blossom Toes,
Eurythmics,
Morten Harket,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
JFA,
Kerri Chandler,
Swans,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Boredoms,
Quantec,
The United States of America,
T.S.O.L.,
The Gun Club,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Index,
Bronski Beat,
Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy.
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.