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 Costa Rica and from Houston.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Scientists to the jazz 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 T. Rex. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Bourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Frankie Knuckles record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faraquet,
Aaron Thompson,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Aloha Tigers,
Ultravox,
Blossom Toes,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Ten City,
Tim Buckley,
Depeche Mode,
Fat Boys,
U.S. Maple,
Sixth Finger,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Godley & Creme,
Bill Wells,
Camouflage,
The Star Department,
James White and The Blacks,
The Real Kids,
The Gories,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gabor Szabo,
Radiopuhelimet,
Severed Heads,
Fluxion,
A Certain Ratio,
Marvin Gaye,
June Days,
Sound Behaviour,
Yusef Lateef,
Dorothy Ashby,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Gun Club,
The Flesh Eaters,
Rosa Yemen,
Prince Buster,
Black Pus,
Organ,
Minor Threat,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Dead Boys,
Bobby Womack,
Jacob Miller,
The Blues Magoos,
Josef K,
Reuben Wilson,
Pierre Henry,
Howard Jones,
Niagra,
Stereo Dub,
This Heat,
Lakeside,
Popol Vuh,
UT,
Warren Ellis,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
T.S.O.L.,
Flamin' Groovies,
Skarface,
Sugar Minott,
Erasure,
Alphaville,
Thompson Twins,
Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters.
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.