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 Belarus and from Tehran.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Bobby Womack to the grunge 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 Flash Fearless. All the underground hits.
All The Victims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dorothy Ashby 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deepchord,
Simply Red,
The Modern Lovers,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Velvet Underground,
The Tremeloes,
Smog,
Black Bananas,
Mad Mike,
Infiniti,
The Fortunes,
Iggy Pop,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Five Americans,
Lindisfarne,
Howard Jones,
China Crisis,
Whodini,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Joyce Sims,
Stereo Dub,
The Motions,
The Divine Comedy,
Symarip,
John Cale,
Spoonie Gee,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Roy Ayers,
Althea and Donna,
The Offenders,
Magazine,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Sound,
cv313,
the Fania All-Stars,
Brick,
Accadde A,
Cybotron,
Unrelated Segments,
The Doobie Brothers,
Grey Daturas,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Move,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Metal Thangz,
Pharoah Sanders,
Half Japanese,
Alphaville,
Average White Band,
The Litter,
Public Enemy,
Andrew Hill,
Au Pairs,
Blossom Toes,
Todd Terry,
Yaz,
Warren Ellis,
Kevin Saunderson,
Dark Day,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Joy Division,
Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May.
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.