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 Panama and from Philadelphia.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Jeru the Damaja to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Josef K. All the underground hits.
All Althea and Donna tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Motions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fall,
Clear Light,
Maleditus Sound,
Scion,
Eurythmics,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ultravox,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Gabor Szabo,
Von Mondo,
Camouflage,
The Cowsills,
Kas Product,
Lalo Schifrin,
Barrington Levy,
Terrestrial Tones,
John Cale,
Darondo,
Mary Jane Girls,
Boredoms,
Gregory Isaacs,
Heaven 17,
Letta Mbulu,
the Bar-Kays,
Black Pus,
Brass Construction,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Hot Snakes,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Brothers Johnson,
Bill Near,
Average White Band,
A Certain Ratio,
Tres Demented,
Lucky Dragons,
The Flesh Eaters,
Peter and Kerry,
Fifty Foot Hose,
La Düsseldorf,
The Fire Engines,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Thee Headcoats,
Basic Channel,
Skarface,
Agitation Free,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Stetsasonic,
Rufus Thomas,
U.S. Maple,
Magma,
Sex Pistols,
Fugazi,
Pet Shop Boys,
Matthew Bourne,
Sugar Minott,
Sun City Girls,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Fugs,
Y Pants,
Model 500, Model 500, Model 500, Model 500.
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.