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 El Salvador and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 spring reverb 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 Anakelly to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Sonics. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mandrill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Los Fastidios record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Toasters,
Spandau Ballet,
Blancmange,
Depeche Mode,
ABBA,
Colin Newman,
Inner City,
The Durutti Column,
Rhythm & Sound,
Vladislav Delay,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Underground Resistance,
Youth Brigade,
The Invisible,
Intrusion,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Names,
Supertramp,
Gang of Four,
Terry Callier,
The New Christs,
Nico,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Techniques,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
In Retrospect,
Bobby Byrd,
Newcleus,
Make Up,
Deakin,
The Detroit Cobras,
Moebius,
Idris Muhammad,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bauhaus,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Marmalade,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Easy Going,
Monolake,
The Dirtbombs,
Soft Machine,
The Young Rascals,
Iggy Pop,
Moby Grape,
Chrome,
Derrick Morgan,
The Beau Brummels,
Gerry Rafferty,
Royal Trux,
Andrew Hill,
Pierre Henry,
Yazoo,
A Certain Ratio,
Bobby Womack,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Gang Green,
Electric Prunes,
Maleditus Sound,
Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red.
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.