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 Slovakia and from Paris.
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 Milan and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Last Poets to the rock 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 Trojans. All the underground hits.
All X-Ray Spex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Au Pairs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Little Man record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
Desert Stars,
The Neon Judgement,
ABBA,
Anakelly,
The Index,
Yaz,
Todd Terry,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Agitation Free,
Urselle,
Peter & Gordon,
Spandau Ballet,
Cheater Slicks,
Cameo,
The Blues Magoos,
Monks,
The Leaves,
The Moody Blues,
Massinfluence,
Wasted Youth,
The Invisible,
Section 25,
AZ,
Dennis Brown,
Hasil Adkins,
Saccharine Trust,
Avey Tare,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Junior Murvin,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Alphaville,
Deakin,
The Techniques,
The Alarm Clocks,
Reuben Wilson,
Sarah Menescal,
Tommy Roe,
Big Daddy Kane,
Deepchord,
Kool Moe Dee,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Traffic Nightmare,
Faraquet,
The Modern Lovers,
Michelle Simonal,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Tres Demented,
The Litter,
Robert Görl,
Black Moon,
F. McDonald,
Malaria!,
Stereo Dub,
X-Ray Spex,
The Human League,
Minnie Riperton,
Can,
Althea and Donna,
Essential Logic,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Wake, The Wake, The Wake, The Wake.
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.