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 Haiti and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the theremin 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 Terrestrial Tones to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Fela Kuti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blake Baxter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes 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 snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
Soft Machine,
Dennis Brown,
The Fortunes,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Piero Umiliani,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Martian,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Dave Gahan,
Scratch Acid,
Desert Stars,
The Human League,
Ossler,
Y Pants,
Charles Mingus,
Sandy B,
Nik Kershaw,
Royal Trux,
Suburban Knight,
The Associates,
Basic Channel,
Main Source,
the Slits,
Jerry's Kids,
The Cure,
The Beau Brummels,
Bill Wells,
The Cramps,
Mandrill,
Gerry Rafferty,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Schoolly D,
Black Flag,
Don Cherry,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Moody Blues,
Kayak,
the Germs,
Slave,
The Sound,
The Smiths,
Gichy Dan,
The Count Five,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Sun City Girls,
Lightning Bolt,
Rhythm & Sound,
Cybotron,
Minnie Riperton,
X-102,
Interpol,
The Fire Engines,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Terry Callier,
Pulsallama,
Sound Behaviour,
Nils Olav,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Selecter,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Lindisfarne,
X-101, X-101, X-101, X-101.
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.