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 Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 These Immortal Souls to the jazz 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 Black Flag. All the underground hits.
All Pierre Henry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vladislav Delay 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb 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 oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Beasts of Bourbon,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Idris Muhammad,
The Mojo Men,
Gang of Four,
Alphaville,
Wings,
The J.B.'s,
Faust,
Harmonia,
The Beau Brummels,
John Cale,
Subhumans,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Unrelated Segments,
Whodini,
Grandmaster Flash,
T.S.O.L.,
Pussy Galore,
Barrington Levy,
Mark Hollis,
John Lydon,
Lebanon Hanover,
Absolute Body Control,
Roy Ayers,
Nik Kershaw,
The Slackers,
Dead Boys,
Michelle Simonal,
The Motions,
Joy Division,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Alice Coltrane,
Siglo XX,
Curtis Mayfield,
Juan Atkins,
Ossler,
Roxette,
Animal Collective,
Bill Near,
Minnie Riperton,
Kurtis Blow,
Grey Daturas,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Marmalade,
Rosa Yemen,
Tim Buckley,
Amazonics,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Sällskapet,
Jesper Dahlback,
Pierre Henry,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Trojans,
Donald Byrd,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Durutti Column,
Marcia Griffiths,
Au Pairs,
Dennis Brown,
Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers.
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.