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 Tajikistan and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
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 The Sound to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Black Dice. All the underground hits.
All Sällskapet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Danielle Patucci record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultra Naté,
Ken Boothe,
Procol Harum,
48th St. Collective,
The Cowsills,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Divine Comedy,
Soft Cell,
The Red Krayola,
Radiohead,
The Modern Lovers,
Joy Division,
Ponytail,
Sound Behaviour,
Ice-T,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Traffic Nightmare,
Gang of Four,
Arthur Verocai,
The Stooges,
Stiv Bators,
Tom Boy,
The Sonics,
MDC,
Shoche,
Brand Nubian,
EPMD,
Crispian St. Peters,
Audionom,
Franke,
Sugar Minott,
Boz Scaggs,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Crispy Ambulance,
Crooked Eye,
The Fall,
the Swans,
Black Bananas,
K-Klass,
Don Cherry,
X-Ray Spex,
CMW,
Black Moon,
The Black Dice,
Average White Band,
the Bar-Kays,
R.M.O.,
Eurythmics,
Sex Pistols,
David Axelrod,
Warren Ellis,
Grey Daturas,
Bauhaus,
Massinfluence,
The Smiths,
The Sound,
The Cure,
Model 500,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Roxette,
Throbbing Gristle,
Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell.
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.