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 Morocco and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 James White and The Blacks to the electroclash 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 T. Rex. All the underground hits.
All Be Bop Deluxe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every AZ record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spoonie Gee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cybotron,
June Days,
Quadrant,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Ornette Coleman,
Mr. Review,
Jerry's Kids,
The Monks,
Sparks,
Ice-T,
Dave Gahan,
The Blues Magoos,
kango's stein massive,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Barclay James Harvest,
Subhumans,
Alphaville,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
John Lydon,
DNA,
The Fortunes,
Faraquet,
Scion,
June of 44,
Cluster,
The Black Dice,
The Mojo Men,
Public Enemy,
Ohio Players,
The Golliwogs,
Technova,
Tubeway Army,
Morten Harket,
Brand Nubian,
The Red Krayola,
The United States of America,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Roy Ayers,
Tim Buckley,
Leonard Cohen,
Big Daddy Kane,
Symarip,
Pantaleimon,
Janne Schatter,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Minnie Riperton,
X-101,
Sister Nancy,
Rapeman,
The Doobie Brothers,
Roger Hodgson,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Albert Ayler,
Warsaw,
Kaleidoscope,
The Sonics,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Offenders,
Model 500,
the Swans,
Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill.
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.