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 Slovakia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The American Breed to the rap 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 Lonnie Liston Smith. All the underground hits.
All Lalann tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Talk Talk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants 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?
Surgeon,
Thompson Twins,
Echospace,
Ken Boothe,
Grauzone,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Icehouse,
Q65,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sugar Minott,
Oblivians,
Erykah Badu,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Smoke,
Lyres,
Whodini,
Amazonics,
The Shadows of Knight,
Yusef Lateef,
The Durutti Column,
Moebius,
The Music Machine,
Sex Pistols,
Tomorrow,
Japan,
Nik Kershaw,
The Count Five,
Theoretical Girls,
The Fall,
Lucky Dragons,
Masters at Work,
Eric Copeland,
The Victims,
The Real Kids,
Roger Hodgson,
Marine Girls,
The Buckinghams,
The Selecter,
Anthony Braxton,
The Black Dice,
Yazoo,
Mandrill,
Magazine,
Chrome,
Delon & Dalcan,
Index,
Prince Buster,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Martian,
Wasted Youth,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Divine Comedy,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Mummies,
Accadde A,
Buzzcocks,
Janne Schatter,
Gong,
Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy.
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.