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 Qatar and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Seoul.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Men They Couldn't Hang 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 Blake Baxter. All the underground hits.
All The Zeros tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Saccharine Trust record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amazonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacques Brel,
Derrick May,
Kevin Saunderson,
Heaven 17,
Desert Stars,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Flesh Eaters,
Amon Düül II,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Clear Light,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Neon Judgement,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Freddie Wadling,
Cameo,
New Age Steppers,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Frankie Knuckles,
Mandrill,
Depeche Mode,
Pole,
Zapp,
Visage,
Make Up,
Quando Quango,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lebanon Hanover,
Camouflage,
U.S. Maple,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gil Scott Heron,
Eurythmics,
Michelle Simonal,
Sound Behaviour,
Oneida,
Groovy Waters,
The Smiths,
Average White Band,
Maleditus Sound,
Wire,
Duran Duran,
Robert Görl,
Eric B and Rakim,
the Normal,
Tres Demented,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Sound,
Shuggie Otis,
Judy Mowatt,
Roxette,
Dawn Penn,
James White and The Blacks,
Kerri Chandler,
Masters at Work,
Bauhaus,
Eric Dolphy,
Jerry's Kids,
Girls At Our Best!,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Zero Boys,
F. McDonald,
Donald Byrd,
The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed.
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.