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 Ecuador and from New York.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Oblivians to the grime 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 Al Stewart. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gregory Isaacs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Move record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marine Girls,
Swans,
The Motions,
Rites of Spring,
Pere Ubu,
Fatback Band,
Sixth Finger,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Shuggie Otis,
The Mummies,
Country Teasers,
Bush Tetras,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
MDC,
Patti Smith,
Franke,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Laurel Aitken,
The Remains,
Black Flag,
Surgeon,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lalo Schifrin,
Symarip,
Tomorrow,
Man Eating Sloth,
Eve St. Jones,
Smog,
Zapp,
Inner City,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Pantaleimon,
Hoover,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Blues Magoos,
Throbbing Gristle,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Black Pus,
Sun Ra,
The United States of America,
Morten Harket,
The Trojans,
Kevin Saunderson,
Banda Bassotti,
Leonard Cohen,
Cheater Slicks,
Freddie Wadling,
The Saints,
Sugar Minott,
Easy Going,
Japan,
Harpers Bizarre,
Massinfluence,
Maleditus Sound,
Can,
Gang of Four,
Black Bananas,
The Selecter,
Jeru the Damaja,
Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru.
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.