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 Malawi and from Winnipeg.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Simply Red to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Ralphi Rosario. All the underground hits.
All The Remains tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scrapy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fortunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Intrusion,
Procol Harum,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Grauzone,
Parry Music,
Dawn Penn,
Michelle Simonal,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Rakim,
Crispian St. Peters,
Scratch Acid,
Sällskapet,
Bobby Womack,
Interpol,
Malaria!,
Junior Murvin,
Das Ding,
Roger Hodgson,
The Raincoats,
Todd Rundgren,
Yazoo,
Gong,
Porter Ricks,
F. McDonald,
The Cure,
Scion,
The Move,
Joe Finger,
Soul Sonic Force,
Soft Cell,
The Offenders,
The Stooges,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Electric Prunes,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Gladiators,
Curtis Mayfield,
Prince Buster,
The Dead C,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Minny Pops,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
June of 44,
Sam Rivers,
Barrington Levy,
Aural Exciters,
Peter and Kerry,
Wasted Youth,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Traffic Nightmare,
Hardrive,
Royal Trux,
Ronan,
The Fugs,
Eric B and Rakim,
PIL,
Camouflage,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Von Mondo,
Organ,
Yaz, Yaz, Yaz, Yaz.
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.