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 Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the guitar 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 Can to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine. All the underground hits.
All The Blues Magoos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Sheep record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
The Victims,
Roxette,
Inner City,
Chris Corsano,
Echospace,
Mad Mike,
Harmonia,
Rufus Thomas,
The Blackbyrds,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lalann,
Brand Nubian,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Neil Young,
Pylon,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Kerri Chandler,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Standells,
Piero Umiliani,
Tom Boy,
The Searchers,
Fat Boys,
Yaz,
Rotary Connection,
Moby Grape,
Black Sheep,
Wasted Youth,
Adolescents,
Shoche,
Reuben Wilson,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Zeros,
Carl Craig,
The Last Poets,
Yellowson,
Ludus,
EPMD,
Howard Jones,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
New Age Steppers,
Audionom,
The Shadows of Knight,
Royal Trux,
ABC,
Mary Jane Girls,
Swell Maps,
Donald Byrd,
Sexual Harrassment,
Derrick May,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
MDC,
Wings,
Marmalade,
Kevin Saunderson,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
kango's stein massive,
The Star Department,
Connie Case,
The Moody Blues,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme.
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.