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 Panama and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Madrid.
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 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 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 Brothers Johnson to the punk 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 Liaisons Dangereuses. All the underground hits.
All D'Angelo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerri Chandler 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Green record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flamin' Groovies,
Groovy Waters,
Fatback Band,
Black Moon,
Parry Music,
Brothers Johnson,
Sun Ra,
Kayak,
Peter & Gordon,
The Red Krayola,
Mandrill,
Skriet,
Terry Callier,
Pussy Galore,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Durutti Column,
Cecil Taylor,
Lower 48,
Spandau Ballet,
Quando Quango,
Wolf Eyes,
D'Angelo,
John Foxx,
Kerrie Biddell,
Blake Baxter,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Guru Guru,
Fear,
Nation of Ulysses,
Don Cherry,
Laurel Aitken,
Livin' Joy,
The Fortunes,
Boredoms,
The Zeros,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Danielle Patucci,
The Busters,
The Human League,
Bootsy Collins,
Scan 7,
The Mummies,
The Victims,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lou Reed,
Hardrive,
The Gap Band,
Eric B and Rakim,
Tres Demented,
Eden Ahbez,
Youth Brigade,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Q and Not U,
Gang of Four,
The Monochrome Set,
Nik Kershaw,
The Shadows of Knight,
Newcleus,
Bronski Beat,
New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls.
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.