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 Peru and from Delhi.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Ronnie Foster to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 the Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All James Chance & The Contortions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Howard Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Parry Music,
Radiohead,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Black Bananas,
R.M.O.,
Black Sheep,
Rakim,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Jacques Brel,
The Fire Engines,
The Last Poets,
Lakeside,
Depeche Mode,
Sixth Finger,
Bill Near,
Susan Cadogan,
Harry Pussy,
Bobby Byrd,
Scott Walker,
Archie Shepp,
Lightning Bolt,
Slave,
The Moody Blues,
Visage,
Tommy Roe,
Youth Brigade,
Joyce Sims,
Ohio Players,
Hoover,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Monks,
Bobby Sherman,
Juan Atkins,
Sex Pistols,
Ken Boothe,
LL Cool J,
The Litter,
Erasure,
Symarip,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Henry Cow,
Sandy B,
Eve St. Jones,
Fad Gadget,
Gang of Four,
Tropical Tobacco,
AZ,
Nico,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Andrew Hill,
Don Cherry,
Fluxion,
Niagra,
Liliput,
The Pop Group,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bronski Beat,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Judy Mowatt,
Massinfluence,
Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover.
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.